Cassiopeia
by Alakazamboni
Summary: Technology is advancing. Security it is getting tighter. Family is getting more tedious. To top it all off, there's a new psychotic ghost on the prowl, and Maddie Fenton just doesn't feel like herself. Everyone has a weakness; Maddie just never knew exactly what her's was until it was twisted and used against her.
1. Chapter 1

**TW:** Minor language, blood, violence

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CASSIOPEIA: The blind and arrogant queen. Her child must be made to bear the burden of her presumptuous nature. All in the name of foolish pride and vanity, can such a being be saved from herself? Or will she lose that which she values the most?

* * *

Ghosts don't usually hang around his parent's lab… Well, ghosts other than him that is. Must be something about having the walls lined with tools literally meant to combat the very nature of your being seems to repel the brunt of the ghost masses. Those that do spend the time to peruse the lab tend to flee rather quickly after realizing the destructive power of some of the equipment.

Of course, this comes as no surprise. The first theory of ghosts does have to do with self-preservation. After all, what is a ghost if not something that defies the very nature of death?

That, however, didn't seem to be driving this particular ghost who was currently staring at the wall adorned with potentially lethal ecto weaponry. If not for the slight tremor of her hands (and the undeniable frosty bite of his breath), Danny would have thought she was a statue on account of her current unmoving and thoughtful stance.

He sucked in a breath, grateful for his invisibility. Ghosts by themselves were dangerous enough. Ghosts armed with weapons were even more so. This was a situation that required tact, care, and subtlety. If she realized that she was being hunted, then she'd no doubt grab the nearest weapon and open fire.

Slowly, and with an almost eerie grace, she reached out and removed a side arm from its wall hook. The barrel shone with strips of brilliant green and the Fenton logo decorated its handle. It was his mother's most recent favorite. She built it herself. All the power of a hand grenade filled with napalm was stored within that less than innocent device.

 _Hopefully, this new ghost doesn't know how to use it…_

*Click* The gun happily whirred to life at the release of its safety, startling Danny with its almost perversely loud thrum. He unintentionally flicked back into the visible range and knocked a beaker filled with… well he wasn't really sure what it was filled with, but he did knock it over.

 _Way to go, Fenton. Your clumsiness knows no bounds._

He looked back up from the oozing mess on the floor just in time to see the opposing ghost gawking at him. "Um… That was an accident."

Her face quickly contorted from shock to fury. "You!" she roared, "What are you doing here!?"

The sudden change from quiet and thoughtful to utter and outright rage didn't quite give Danny the time he needed to prepare himself for the onslaught of projectile chemical solvent. She managed to graze him with a shot before he had the brains to duck beneath the ground.

But he didn't have the time to worry about his arm, the flesh of which was already blistering and leaking toxic ectoplasm. He pulled the thermos from his back and steeled himself for battle. Any minute now, she should come rushing under the ground for him, and he'll be able to bait her from the house, throw a couple of punches, and suck her into the Fenton thermos. Boom! Problem solved.

So there he waited…

And waited…

After about a minute of nothing (which is a lifetime given the amount of adrenaline that was pumping into his veins), Danny cautiously resurfaced. No sooner did his eyes breach the surface did Danny have to retreat back into his earthly cover. Fenton Foamer goo coated his hair and bit at his scalp. It was enough to cause irritation, but thankfully not enough to really cause any damage.

"What the heck is your problem!?" he yelled to the floor above. Silence was his only response.

 _Okay, Fenton. How do you get yourself out of this one? She's angry, she's clearly got a grudge, and she knows how to operate the Fenton weaponry._

He hissed in frustration. This situation went from mundane to dangerous very quickly, and he really didn't like this battle's proximity to his blissfully asleep family members. He seriously needed to find a way to get her out of his house before the worst happened.

 _She's clearly not interested in chasing me…_

After waiting a little longer to see if she'd follow him through the ground, Danny gave up, choosing instead to play hot cold with his ghost sense. The colder his breath got, the closer he got to her. He'd drag her out into the open if he had to.

Finally, his breath puffed out in a frosty burst making the more sensitive of his teeth ache. "Gotcha," he breathed.

Pooling his energy into his legs, he fired himself like a rocket skyward, intangible to everything except the other ghost. He couldn't help the satisfied smirk when he heard her yelp in surprise.

The victory, however, was short lived. They burst into the night sky like two fighting stray cats. She clawed and scratched and spat angry insults at Danny as he attempted to ward away the worst of her assault with his free hand.

Something hard and strong struck his gut, and as Danny was taking the time to recover, she twisted and kicked him with both of her feet, sending the two sprawling in opposite directions. Being accustomed to much stronger and more devastating blows, Danny quickly righted himself in the air. His arm now throbbed from the abuse, ectoplasm running down to his hand and dripping onto the world below him.

 _But at least she's not in the house anymore. No access to weapons, and my family is safe._

He watched her streak across the night sky like some sort of orange supernatural comet. How strange it was that she wasn't even attempting to slow her descent.

 _Wait… no way… is she screaming?_

Sure enough, screams of terror accompanied the ghost on her descent back to Earth.

 _Oh crud! She can't fly!_

Arm already forgotten, Danny made a beeline for what was soon to be an otherworldly pancake on the road. He groped for his thermos to secure her with, but came up empty.

 _Must've dropped it. Great job butterfingers!_

He eased into a relaxed stop just below her, hoping that there was enough of a buffer still left to allow him to slow their combined descent without crashing into the ground.

Her fall was quick, violent, and punctuated by flailing limbs, each one powerful enough to do some decent damage. Once caught, Danny would have to make sure to immobilize her for both of their sakes.

His breath turned frigid again as he snapped both arms out to capture her. The force pulled uncomfortably at his shoulders, and if it weren't for his already amorphous nature, he was sure that his bones would've snapped at the impact.

 _At least she's not kicking me right now. I gotta find a place to stash her until I can toss her into the Ghost Zone._

Her stupor didn't last long though, as she soon realized that her life (afterlife?) wasn't in immediate danger. She quickly regained her wits and began pummeling him with her fists. "Let go of me, ghost!" she all but screamed.

"Are you crazy?! You'll fall to your death!" Danny reasoned between hits, but this ghost was anything but reasonable. She seemed far more interested in trying to twist away from him again than she was in not becoming a spectral splatter on the pavement.

Acting fast, Danny roughly deposited her on the roof of a taller building. No stair access, and no ecto-weaponry, she was as good as trapped.

He leveled her a livid glare, the green of his eyes accented by a darkening bruise across the bridge of his nose. "There. I let go. Happy now?" He threw his arms up in exasperation, hissed, then pulled his injured arm back towards his chest. "You throw a nasty right hook, y'know?" he commented as he wiped some of his ectoplasm from his nose.

She didn't dignify him with a response, instead choosing to crouch into an offensive position and return his glare.

"So what? We both stare each other down? News flash, psycho, you can't fly, so you can't reach me." The corners of his lips turned upwards in victory. "And it looks like you can't get down without my help, so we can either talk this out like reasonable adults or I can go grab another thermos. Your choice." He examined his gloved nails in mock vanity.

 _Ha ha. Looks like it's my win after all._

She growled in frustration. "Get down here and fight me!" she demanded.

"And then what? Lose or win, you're still stuck there," Danny snapped back. Her attitude was really starting to grate on his nerves. "Seriously, what is your problem!?"

"My problem? My problem!? My problem is that ghosts like you think you're so high and mighty. You think you can do anything! And then I find you in my house, under MY roof! No one is safe so long as you're around, Phantom!"

Danny was flabbergasted.

 _Her house!? Who does she think she is!_

"Look lady, I don't know who you are, but its common knowledge that I live there. Not you. How can you possibly expect to run me out of my own home when you can't even float a foot off the ground. Heck, even Skulker has the sense to not ambush me there. Skulker!" He punctuated his rant with flamboyant gestures and furious finger pointing. "How could you expect to even touch me?!"

She smiled despite her losing situation. "Explain that to your new bruises."

Danny growled as he subconsciously reached for his aching nose. "How was I supposed to know you couldn't fly! And what the heck were you doing in my house?"

"My house," she forcefully corrected. "And I'll do as I please in my house. You," she pointed threateningly, "are not welcome there."

He scowled. "Okay. I'm officially drawing the line. That," he gestured to the hideous neon Fenton sign, "is my family's house. I live there. Everyone knows this. I don't get why you want to lie about it so bad, but touch a hair on any one of them, and I'll personally escort you to the Ghost Zone's own vortex of pain and misery. Got it?"

"You are NOT part of my family!" she spat. "And don't you dare enter that house again, ghost! I don't want you anywhere near my kids!"

 _This is going nowhere._

Danny groaned and held up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. I get it. Thermos trip for you. Sit tight. I'll be right back."

The ghost's angry chatter morphed into furious caterwauls as he approached his house.

 _There's gotta be an extra one under my bed._

Mixed together with the horrid and enraged bellows, Danny could just make out a small mechanical whirring noise. Another signature tickled at the back of his throat like an early morning itch, too muddled to ever truly trigger his ghost sense. That underdeveloped ectoplasmic presence could only mean one person…

 _Please don't let her notice me. Please don't let her notice me._

But there was no way she could not notice him. He was a brightly glowing silhouette of black and white in an otherwise darkened street. Didn't help that the other ghost was screaming herself hoarse and drawing all attention to him.

The Red Huntress burst into the scene as extravagantly as usual. Weapons were already drawn, and over a dozen self-piloting drones were buzzing around her like a nest of angry hornets. Her hoverboard was gracefully positioned beneath her feet for a quick advance.

 _Why do the crazies always appear when I have a test in the morning? It's almost like they have a 'Danny needs to be a functional human being tomorrow' timer._

Without even looking, Danny listed lazily to the left, narrowly dodging the preliminary round of miniature missiles that Valarie always starts her battles off with.

"Hold still, ghost boy! I promise I won't let it hurt for long," she demanded, her familiar voice distorted by the external speakers of her battle suit.

Danny turned to face her and gave her a tired frown. "Val, you know I don't want to do this…"

"Yeah?" she replied unflinchingly. "Well I do!" The drones began their first attack, firing small but powerful ghost rays from the forward mounted barrels like tiny floating tanks.

Danny peeled away from the drones' immediate range. If he stayed, then she would've likely used them to corner him and deliver a final blow. Danny shuddered. He had no desire to be killed by her today.

Keeping close to the ground, he flew around buildings, looped around trees, phased in and out of the ground, all in an elaborate, evasive dance to confuse Valerie. And it worked! For all of her strengths, she was still human. She couldn't hope to ever do the kind of things that he could.

Taking cover behind an old dumpster, he quickly switched back into Fenton. With his ghostly persona gone, he successfully eluded the Red Huntress's sensors. He breathed a sigh of relief when she unwittingly blew past him overhead. He could already imagine the rant he would hear from her tomorrow at lunch about how terrible Phantom is. Somehow, he found it a little endearing that she would vent with him. Endearing, but still dangerous.

Groaning, Danny stood up to find that trash juice had already bled into his Jack Fenton pajamas… the phase-proof Jack Fenton pajamas guaranteed to never go intangible…

 _Ew. Tuck was right. Nasty Burger smells the same before and after._

He wiped himself off to the best of his ability, but not being able to phase the garbage infused clothing really hampered his ability to get clean. He'd just have to wash them properly when he got home.

Frustrated, tired, and more than a little bit embarrassed to be outside in (smelly) pajamas, Danny stomped homeward. He dared not switch back to Phantom, because he could still hear the distant destruction of Valarie raising hell somewhere.

 _Oh no… I totally forgot…_

Well, the hell raising that Valarie was doing just happened to be against that ghost he fought earlier tonight. Under normal circumstances, he'd just leave the two to duke it out, but this ghost was losing in a bad way and Valarie was not one to spare her victims.

Kicking himself for dropping the thermos in the first place, Danny pulled hard at his ghost core and reentered the fray in dramatic fashion, letting loose a round of (mostly) harmless ecto-blasts.

 _Hey, if I'm gonna do it, I might as well make it look cool._

As the resulting smoke cleared, he propped his chin against his fist and shot Valarie a flirtatious smile. "We gotta stop meeting like this, Val."

He could almost hear the gears in Valerie's head grind to a halt. Obviously, she was not expecting him to reappear so soon after supposedly running away. She threw aside the other ghost and immediately opened fire on Danny.

 _Okay wise guy. You've got her attention. What's the plan now?_

Crap! He forgot to think of a plan before he plunged head first into live fire!

Duck, roll, serpentine, punch, counter, shield. With no plan of action, it was all he could do to fall into his standard anti-Val attack pattern. Avoid the long range weapons, swoop in, strike her equipment (but not her) with as strong an attack as he can manage, and throw up a shield to avoid getting pummeled. Rinse. Repeat.

But somewhere along the way between the baseless accusations and gun fire, Danny had completely forgotten that the Red Huntress was not his only opponent. Well, he was imminently reminded when the ghost from before caught him with a hooking clothesline and curb stomped his already hurt arm.

Slightly panicking at the new onset of pain, he sank into the building, now thankfully evacuated of residents courtesy of the extra loud and flashy ghost fight happening overhead.

Knowing that Val couldn't go intangible, and that the other ghost probably didn't know how to go intangible, Danny took the time to look over his arm and mutter obscenities.

 _Definitely broken, but not bad off considering. Probably a hairline fracture. Gonna have to end this sooner rather than later._

With not much more to fall back on, he quickly swapped back to Fenton and peeled off his dirty pajama shirt. Then, after transforming yet again into Phantom, he wound the shirt around his arm. It was gross, but better than nothing. Besides, he didn't even think that ghosts could get infections.

When he surfaced, he came across the Red Huntress and the other ghost arguing about who had dibs on Phantom. Unfortunately, it looked like the debate was hideously one sided as Valarie was not opposed to using violence to get her way, especially if the opposing party was comprised primarily of ectoplasm.

 _She's distracted. It's either now or never._

Making quick use of his invisibility, he snuck up behind the Red Huntress and stuck an intangible hand through a plate of her hover board. His hand gripped a bundle of what was probably a wiring harness essential to normal operation, and he chuckled out loud.

"Hey Val," he sang from behind her. "I think you might have a loose cable somewhere." With no further warning, he ripped the wires free from their encasement, causing the hover board to drop lifelessly to the ground, rider and all.

Danny looked between the cables in his hand and the deceased board at his feet with a face of forced comical disappointment. "I'm gonna be honest with you guys," he stated with a deadpan look, "I thought pulling these cables would do something a little more spectacular."

Valarie roared something unintelligible, and redoubled her attack efforts, but with her board gone, she was really just like any other human ghost hunter. She threw a punch here, fired a blast there, but none of her attacks were hitting their mark and her power supplies were quickly exhausting.

 _Man she's really gonna hate me for all of this later. I'll never hear the end of it._

The end of her bombardment was signaled by one final ecto blast. It was so weak that it couldn't even properly exit the barrel of the gun, and instead dropped to the ground with a wet slap of unearthly magenta. She ruthlessly tossed aside the malfunctioning weapon and dropped into a similar combat pose that the other ghost was taking.

 _Good. I'm making some progress. Now all I've gotta do is take Valarie home and capture that ghost._

Pinkish ectoplasm dripped from a head wound and trickled down the female ghost's face. She'd break her pose every once in a while to wipe her eyes, but immediately drop back into a defensive position. The huntress beside her shot her the occasional distrustful glance, but overall kept her concealed gaze on Danny.

Danny took the moment to compose himself and tighten his bandages. Upon inspection, they were already tinged acidic green. If he didn't already smell like trash, then he was sure that he'd smell the rotten citric tang of his own ichor. He grimaced. Hopefully his skin would knit itself back together before he made it back to bed.

"Are you two satisfied yet?" Danny spat. He couldn't really help the venom that made its way to his voice.

"I'll be satisfied when you and every ghost punk like you," Valarie shot a sharp look at the other ghost, "get what you deserve." She ground a fist into her palm. "And believe me, you will get what you deserve!"

Danny crossed his arms and scowled. He has had this argument with her far too many times, and he was way too tired to deal with her right now. "Look," he said, "I can carry you down to the ground, and you can go home yourself, or I can force you to go home. Either way, you've lost this one."

Valerie started to protest. Something akin to 'touch me, and you're dead!' but Danny cut her off prematurely. Using his supernatural speed and intangibility, he was able to quickly maneuver around her brandished fists and possess her. The Red Huntress's body stood ramrod straight and shivered at the foreign contact. Green began to leak into the red circuit traces decorating her suit.

 _Ew. This suit always feels so weird. Why does she even wear it?_

Danny, now in Valerie's body, flexed his hand in front of his face and smirked. "Just like old times, eh Val?" he asked aloud, fully aware that Valarie would be unable to respond.

With a thought, the suit unequipped itself and went back into its dormant mode. The oversized wrist watch beeped steadily as it slowly drained Danny's ectoplasmic power to recharge its batteries.

"You… you possessed her?"

Danny, still smirking, turned towards the other ghost. "Yep!" he easily replied, ignoring how much he sounded like Valerie.

"She's only a kid!" she yelled in outrage.

Danny shrugged, seemingly nonplussed. "So what? I'm a kid too. Think that would've stopped her from hurting me? She'd've killed me if I got caught by her." Danny frowned, a little bit forlorn at that confession. He never really got over their breakup. "At least this way, she isn't hurt," he muttered. Then, with a little bit more confidence, he added, "She'd've destroyed you, too, if I gave her the chance."

The opposing ghost huffed, clearly annoyed. The ectoplasm that was leaking from her head had finally stopped, but that still left numerous bruises and lacerations that had yet to heal over.

He floated over to the remains of Valerie's board and began collecting the lifeless bits of metal. The strange vampiric drain almost doubled its speed as her suit began its healing process. He put up with it, though. After all, he didn't want Val to be caught in a ghost fight and not have her glider.

The unnamed ghost cautiously watched him from afar, too beat up to really start another fight. She cocked her head, careful and analytical. "You'll let her go?" she tentatively asked.

Danny turned to face her. Immediately upon making eye contact, the ghost slipped back into her defensive posture. "You really don't know anything do you?" When the ghost gave no answer, he continued. "Look, as much as I want to stay and chit chat with the person who just shot at me and broke my arm, I gotta take her home. You. Stay. Here."

The ghost huffed again, but gave no indication of fight. Apparently, Valerie had really done a number on her. Her chest heaved with vestigial breaths, highlighted by her ridiculously orange jumpsuit.

Rolling his eyes, or rather, Valerie's eyes, Danny took off in the direction of Valerie's new apartment. It was still cheap and run down, but at least it wasn't in the dangerous part of town like her old one used to be. Her dad had begun making a comeback by marketing special cameras that could capture video footage of everything, even invisible ghosts, to security contractors. Of course, he never mentioned that his cameras were just rebranded thermal cameras that he bought for cheap somewhere online.

Ah well, beggars can't be choosers. And Valerie's family could really use the money, so Danny supposed that it was all done with good intentions, though if a little bit shady for his own personal tastes.

He made his usual entrance through the wall of their living room, and was a little bit startled to see Daman sitting on the shabby loveseat. He was, thankfully, still invisible, but he still felt wrong for invading the privacy of his home. Hopefully, he wasn't waiting up for Valerie. That would be awkward.

Silently, he slipped past Daman and through Valerie's bedroom wall where he allowed himself to drop back into the visible realm. The watch on Valerie's wrist continued its drain of Danny's spectral radiation, and he was beginning to really feel the exhaustion start to wear down on his psyche.

 _Maybe I could skip school tomorrow. I mean, it's just one test. I could just pretend to have caught some sort of cold…_

He collapsed onto Valerie's bed, deeply appreciative of the cozy nest of pillows and blankets. "If only this were my room," he mused aloud as he shed the huntress's body from his own. "You really wore me out."

Absently, he scratched at the stinking shirt that he had somehow managed to keep itself tightly wrapped around his arm. Apparently, being phase proof didn't hamper its ability to overshadow. Little green pinpricks of luminescence peppered the tacky material now. It was high time it was replaced with some proper first aid.

"Now, where has she hid it…" Danny whispered to himself, as he poked around her bedroom for her first aid supplies. Though she rarely got hurt, she kept a rather large supply of emergency medicines and bandages, something that he had been having to make more and more use of the better she got at ghost fighting.

"Aha!" he held up his prize with victory, before wincing and pulling his injured arm back to his chest. Making himself comfortable, Danny dropped into the office chair across the room and began tinkering with the little plastic tab that locked the lid in place. Seriously, the little bugger could get really wedged into place.

It finally worked itself free with a barely audible click, and Danny helped himself to the rubbing alcohol, gauze, and medical tape. The bone would heal itself rather quickly, but the lesion was large and made worse by chemical burns and scarring. It would take at least a week before it would be presentable again, he noted with apprehension. Keeping it hidden away would be difficult.

When Danny returned to the rooftop, he found that the orange clad ghost had left, probably via the fire escape that zigzagged its way down the building like some sort of metallic snake.

He was just about to start looking for her, when he noticed the telltale color of dawn begin to wash away the dark blues of nighttime. The new crazy ghost would have to wait. His parents would be coming into his room any moment now to wake him up for school, and he was NOT about to have them find an empty room at six thirty in the morning.

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A/N:

Thanks for reading :) I'm new so any critique is most welcome, even flames can be somewhat useful.

Believe it or not, I actually do have a modicum of an idea as to where this story may lead, but I'm also a VERY lazy person with a full time job, doggos, and a husbando that I must care for. So, no promises on whether or not I'll update this one.

If you like what you see, please review! I'm powered by attention! :0


	2. Chapter 2

Cassiopeia: The Arrogant Queen

Ch.2

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"Dude, are you sure you're okay?" Tucker started as they left the school grounds for the evening. "I haven't seen you burned that bad since…" He held up a hand and began to count on his fingers. "Well actually... nevermind. You get hurt all the time."

"Yeah, and quit poking at it!" scolded Danny, brushing away the offending teenagers hand with a little more force than necessary. "We seriously just rebandaged it. Are you trying to let everyone know about it?" Self consciously, he pulled sleeve of his hoodie down a little further even though it was already doing a proper job of concealing the constrictive gauze.

Holding up his hands in surrender, Tucker responded, "Just worried is all. I mean, how often do we see new ghosts around here? Did she say anything about her goals? Y'know, shout her plans at you or scream about revenge or something? Anything?"

"Ugh no. I wish it were that easy. All I know is that she's crazy and she's dangerous."

"Hey guys! How's it… oh jeez, Danny. Did you get hurt again?"

"Hey! Look who finally has time for us!" decreed Tucker, voice dripping with sarcasm. "It's Sam, the captain of the cheer squad." He made an over dramatic bowing maneuver that almost sent him sprawling on the floor like an idiot. "M'lady. How doth thou compare to a Summer's eve?"

 _Oh man, don't start this now, Tuck. We've just barely left school._

"Shut up, Tuck." Sam scathed. "You know I'm only doing this so my mom can get off my back."

"Then explain the sudden interest in purple pom poms," Tucker challenged right back.

"They're midnight blue!" she countered. "And they're letting me keep my boots!"

"All I'm saying is that while you are twirling around in the air like a fairy princess, Danny," he forcibly pulled Danny closer to him by the shoulders, "and I have been kicking ghost butt is all."

"Oh yeah, I feel real safe. Thanks Tuck. I'll be sure to traipse around in the next dark alley I see considering that I have two strong men to -"

"Enough guys!" snapped Danny. "Seriously, don't I have enough problems on my hands without you two trying to duke it out all the time. What has gotten into you guys?"

Sam scowled, but seemed willing enough to let the argument go for the moment. Tucker, however, turned haughtily and started marching homeward without them.

"Sheesh. What's gotten into him?" Sam questioned. "I mean, we don't always get along, but isn't Tucker is acting especially weird today."

"He's just worried," Danny defended. "I think he's scared that I can't handle the new ghost just because I got shot."

"What! You got shot!" Sam shouted.

 _Yikes! Way too loud._

"Shhhh! Shhhh!" Everyone, students and teachers alike, immediately turned their scrutinous attention to the duo. "She… uh… means in a video game! Yep! My high level character got shot and killed." He elbowed Sam nervously. "Guess we'll just have to start over, right?"

"Uhh, oh. Yeah! That sucks man. Really sucks." Sam fake consoled Danny by patting him on the shoulder good naturedly. By then, though, most everyone had returned to their normal activities. Wearing a serious look that bared no room for escape, Sam continued, "so, how exactly did your character get shot?"

"It was only one time!" Danny ground out between clenched teeth. "She took me by surprise is all. Trust me, it won't happen again."

Sam looked skeptical, but didn't push the matter. "Well, who was it?"

"Dunno. She's new, but she knows how to operate the Fenton weaponry pretty well. And she seems to have a grudge against Phantom for some reason."

"Gee, a grudge? Against you? Now that I don't believe."

Danny rolled his eyes. "Tell me about it. You'd think that after I kick they're collective butts once they'd lay low for a little bit." Then, his eyes lit up. "Hey, think I could charge to open up an arena? Get paid to kick butt?"

Sam scoffed good naturedly. "Doubt it. I think everyone would just gang up on you at once if you did that." Unawares, she playfully punched Danny in the arm, lightly brushing against the surface of the wound.

"Ow!" Danny wrenched his arm away from her immediate vicinity, glaring at his treacherous appendage.

Sam sucked in a sharp breath and held her hand to her face in shock. "Danny! You're so hot."

"I know. I'm practically radiating good looks." The snark was more of a knee jerk reaction than anything.

"Not you." Sam smacked the back of his head lightly. "You're arm." She gingerly placed her hand over the fabric of his sleeve. "You're like, really feverish."

"I know," huffed the stubborn teenager. "And stop touching it. Seriously, it's really tender." He forcibly pulled Sam's hand away, but upon noting the worried look on her face, gave her a small, sympathetic smile. "Look, I've had worse, okay? It'll be gone in a week."

Sam sighed deeply. "I dunno. I think I'm gonna have to side with Tucker on this, and I haven't even seen it."

Danny grimaced at the burnt and blistered texture of his own skin, seared into his recent memory. "Trust me, you don't wanna," he whispered underneath his breath.

"What was that?"

"Uh… I said that it looks fine." The stern look on Sam's face betrayed her skepticism. "Really. It's not that bad," he insisted, giving her his best puppy dog eyes. "Can we just drop it? Tuck's been on my case all day about it already."

Sam looked him up and down before conceding. "Okay. Fine." She stepped back and crossed her arms thoughtfully.

 _She's expecting something, idiot. Say something. Invite her somewhere._

"Hey, uh…" Danny stuttered a bit before clearing his throat and continuing. "Do you wanna catch a movie tonight or something?"

"Yeah! That sounds- ugh!" Sam ran an exasperated hand down her face. "Actually I can't. I'm not allowed to stay out past five anymore."

"Yeesh. That's a little harsh. Well, can I come over and watch something in your theatre?"

"Do the words 'Restraining Order' mean anything to you? If I got caught smuggling you into our basement, they'd probably force me into a private school. They're already threatening it."

"Uhhhhh how about Doomed? I've been on a pretty good killing spree. I think I can even hold my own against you now."

"Oh." Sam's eyebrows disappeared behind her bangs. "Does the wittle ghost boy think he can defeat Chaos!" She leaned in and whispered in a deep, silly sounding voice, "Chaos will grind your puny levels into dust. You cannot defeat me."

 _Finally, a topic other than my arm._

Danny smiled. "So it's a date?" he blurted, before immediately back pedalling. "Not a date-date. But like a… um… specific time and place that we've both agreed to do something together, date?"

 _Real smooth, Fenton. You should become a professional poet._

"Heh-heh. Yeah. A not date, date." She awkwardly finger pistoled. "Because we're not dating…?"

"Yeah." Danny agreed, strangely comfortable that they were still fervently NOT dating. Dating was scary. Sam was… well, Sam was Sam. She could be scary if she wanted to be. But mostly, she was just… comfortable. "So… eight? After dinner?"

"Sounds good." She ground a fist into her palm. "Chaos never misses a not-date."

"Cool. See ya then!" he yelled over his shoulder as he turned to leave. "Oh! And by the way, if you happen to see a ghost in a bright orange jumpsuit, call me."

* * *

Sure enough, sometime at around three am, Danny was torn from his sleep yet again by the icy cold tendrils of his ghost sense.

 _Maybe whoever it is will just go away._

Foggy wisps of air puffed in front of his face, just iridescent enough to see the small whirlwinds of air travel across the wrinkled fabric of his bedding. Danny groaned dramatically and announced to seemingly no one, "I'm sleepy. Go away," whilst lazily waving one arm in a shooing motion.

But his breath remained uncomfortably cold. So cold, in fact, that frost began to gather at his pillow. Danny's eyes widened in alarm.

 _There's more than one ghost!_

He sprang out of bed like a live wire, static quickly enveloping the immediate atmosphere, a clear sign to 'go away' in ghost body language. Though he hadn't yet morphed, his eyes shone a threatening veridian as they scanned the bedroom.

Nothing. No noise, no ghosts, no nothing.

But cold air kept puffing from his chest, clearly indicating the proximity of either multiple ghosts… or one really strong one…

Nerves on edge, Danny hastily morphed and sank through the floor towards the basement hoping to arm himself with something… _anything_ before he had to face whatever was emitting such a strong spectral current.

He dropped to the clean metallic floor with a soft thud and immediately turned to face the shelved weaponry on the opposite wall only to come face to face with the ghost from the previous night. Though her expression was partially hidden by a tight fitting orange hood and welding goggles, the fleeting look of recognition was hard to miss.

"You again?!" they both yelped in unison as they quickly backed away from each other.

Wasting no time, Danny pointed a hand at the unknown spector. Green ectoplasm gathered in the palm of his glove and pulsated with a chaotic energy. The other ghost had a similar idea and was already aiming that small pistol-like weapon from before square at his chest.

Another frigid blast of air wracked Danny's body with chills.

 _There's no way she's the only ghost here._

Squaring his chest, Danny barked, "Where are the others?"

The ghost, however, didn't answer, instead opting to shout commands of her own. "Get out," she growled. Her finger discreetly disabled the safety, and he could hear the familiar whine of the artificial cores spring to life. "I will shoot."

Of this, Danny had no doubt. His left arm still ached terribly from their last skirmish. A small pit of fear gathered in his gut.

 _If she hits something vital with that, I'm a goner._

But he couldn't back down now. His family was still upstairs completely unawares of the impending brawl in the basement level.

Swallowing his doubt, he dug the rubber soles of his shoes into the ground and raised his other hand to the ghost. "I mean it!" he threatened. "I know there are more. Tell me where they are!"

Something akin to confusion flashed across her face momentarily. He traced her gaze to the wound on his arm. It had split back open, revealing luminescent green flesh. His suit had never knitted itself back together like it usually did, and had, in fact, begun to flake away at the edges. Just seeing it without the bandages made his stomach turn a little, and the pain seemed to almost double.

"Please," Danny continued, "I don't want anyone to get hurt, but I will attack if you don't answer me." He advanced a step forward even though his body seemed to want to do anything but stay within range of that infernal device. He had to force himself to stare into the empty depths of her dark red goggles instead of the chrome casing of her gun.

 _Focus, idiot!_

As he slowly closed the distance, the opposing ghost appeared to almost shrink away from him. It seemed that she wanted to avoid a fight almost as much as he did. Apparently, defeat was still very fresh in her mind, too.

 _Maybe she doesn't know…_

Danny almost face palmed. Of course she didn't know. She didn't know anything, let alone enough to hide fellow ghosts in his midst.

Suddenly, from an unlit corner of his parent's lab, a clapping sound echoed off the unfurnished walls. Danny nearly gave himself whiplash he turned around so fast. Keeping one hand trained on the orange ghost, he aimed the other towards the corner allowing the glow to spread to the rest of the room..

Green painted the far wall everywhere except for in one spot that seemed to reject all light. From the dark, he could make out two red pin pricks, eyes, leering at him from the inky blackness. "Pity I can't watch you two tear eachother apart." Teeth flashed as the shadow spoke.

"Spectra?!" he stuttered, surprised that she would show herself here of all places. Cold breath snaked between his gritted teeth as Spectra snickered condescendingly.

 _Where's Bertrand!?_

Without warning, Danny sprinted (flew?) towards Spectra, leaving the orange ghost to gape at his back. Before he could make contact, though, another shade sprung from the shadows and barreled into his side, sending him colliding noisily into an examination table.

 _There's Bertrand._

"Tsk tsk," Spectra taunted in a sugary sweet tone. "You _know_ I don't do violence."

"Save it, Spectra," Danny spat as he extricated himself from the debris. "You are anything but nonviolent." Somehow, he had managed to shield his arm from further damage, but the jostling activity had really aggravated it.

"Aww, did the little baby ghost get a wittle boo-boo?" Bertrand's red eyes followed the green flow of ectoplasm that trickled from his hand onto the ground..

 _Panther. Real original Bertrand._

The shape-shifter licked his lips in smug satisfaction, drinking in the moment before charging yet again. Fumbling a little, Danny managed to catch one of his oversized green paws in one hand, but it did little good. Bertrand still clamped his jaws into his shoulder and used his back legs to rake against his stomach. The force of the tackle sent Danny back into the splintered metal remains of the examination table.

Breath was knocked from his lungs, and Danny was beginning to see stars. The world tilted dizzyingly under his back. Pinned.

 _If I could just go intangible…_

But in the midst of so much disorienting pain, he couldn't find the strength to focus on it. It was like he was a two year old trying to grab ahold of a cube of jello. The slimy, cold feeling of intangibility just kept slipping out of his mental grasp.

Suddenly, Bertrand reared back with a terrible, animalistic bellow. His claws tore free from Danny's skin, giving him a much needed reprieve. He groaned and folded in on himself in a vain attempt at guarding his rendered stomach.

That's when he heard it: the sound of ecto-weaponry firing in his direction.

 _Gotta get out of here!_

He pulled himself into a shaky standing position, too wrung out to really even float. Blurry colors, mostly green, painted his vision. Green bloomed just below his feet. Green writhed not two feet in front of him, also being assaulted by more green that streaked across the room, leaving the color burned into his vision.

 _Is that… Bertrand?_

Sounds that couldn't necessarily be labeled as screams were being violently emitted from the green mass that had now slumped to the floor. Had that orange ghost destroyed Bertrand? Not that he was totally against it, but somehow he did feel a little dirty taking part in a fight that ended up with his opponent being… well dead for lack of a better word.

Click, click, click. That sound was either very good or very bad. Danny swiveled his head drunkenly and located the humanoid orange blur. The volley of ecto-solvent had stopped, and while that meant that he was no longer in danger of getting shot, it also meant that the other ghost could no longer fight.

 _Spectra! Where's Spectra?_

With so many different ectoplasmic signatures assaulting his ghost sense, he couldn't pick out where she had slunk off to. Spectra's natural camouflage also made it difficult to locate her so long as she stayed within the shadows.

Straightening his posture, Danny wiped some of the grit from his face and eyes while keeping his other arm tightly secured around his torso as if holding it would somehow make it better. Squinting, he could make out the orange ghost's face. She was staring at him.

In a rare moment of realization, Danny somehow understood her silent compromise. They had a common enemy. She wanted to work together with him.

He looked around. During the commotion, the orange ghost had found herself on the side of the room opposite all of the weaponry. Seeing as her gun of choice was currently out of battery, she was completely defenseless.

 _Is this a good idea? Probably not._

He nodded towards the rack of weapons across from him, motioning for her to stay in place. There was no telling where Spectra had hidden herself, and it would do the both of them no good to get ambushed. As it was now, he was as good as useless in a ghost fight. He should be the one to leave his station.

Taking one last glance into the shadows, Danny gathered his courage and stepped away from the wreckage into the middle of the room. His aura offered little comfort as the inky blackness seemed to absorb all light. Part of her dreary 'make people miserable' power he supposed.

 _Just gotta make it to the shelves…_

Skirting the undulating puddle that used to be Bertrand, Danny crossed the room without issue. His boots left a glowing trail of green behind him.

 _Fenton Peeler. Fenton Peeler. Where is the Fenton Peeler? Aha!_

The Fenton Peeler sat innocently on the metal mesh of one of their older shelving units. Generous heaps of dust and various disassembled junk littered the area, making it a little bit awkward to get to. The room was so dark, too. Why didn't his parents think to install motion sensitive lights?

Stumbling clumsily over mismatched and failed inventions, Danny reached a gloved hand into the shadowed crevice to fish out the Fenton Peeler.

"Phantom!" the orange ghost shouted urgently.

That's when Danny noticed the red pinpricks of Spectra's eyes as she glared from the other side of the shelf. Her lips were curled into a grinch-like smile, exposing gleaming fangs. Clasped in her clawed hands was a-

 _That's my thermos!_

It was uncapped and pointed directly at his scored chest. The iridescent blue tractor beam had already engulfed him in a staticy prison. The one that he knew all too well was inescapable.

Then, the next thing he knew, he was waking up on a cold and unforgiving concrete surface.

* * *

A/N: I actually posted a second chapter. And I don't completely hate it! The universe is amazing sometimes.

I was going to make this chapter as long as the previous one, but all the extra stuff I had written was boring in comparison to everything else, so I just edited it out. I like it better this way anyway, and it paves the way for the second act of the story pretty well. Maybe I'll go for slow burn fics when I actually develop an attention span. I'm honestly just kinda winging this as I go, so expect a wild ride if it continues.

To the folks favoriting, following, and reviewing: thank you so much! I really wasn't expecting much traffic since I don't really post much (or ever), but I was pleasantly surprised to see that the community is still alive and well. Go team!


	3. Chapter 3

Cassiopeia: The Arrogant Queen

Ch. 3

* * *

 _Cold._

Shivers wracked her body despite her thick clothing. The surface beneath her felt horrible. It's texture was rough, it was ridiculously solid, and… moist?

No, wait a second. She shifted her cheeks and lips. She was just drooling. The surface was otherwise dry.

Waking up slightly, she attempted to pull her legs and arms closer to her to warm them, but something pulled them back. Held them back? Metal. Cold.

 _Wait a second… the lab! Phantom!_

Just like that, she pushed herself as far up as she could. The room was dark, but that didn't come as a surprise. The lab was dark when she… when she… when she was… sucked into the Fenton thermos?

 _Except… this isn't the lab, is it?_

No towering shelves. No soft beeps and clacks. No hushed whir of hard drives and fans. And most notably, no portal. This was indeed _not_ her lab.

Her heart leapt into her throat.

 _Where am I?!_

Some voices could be heard arguing somewhere. Maybe from the room next door?

"You brought the child!?" a voice, male, suddenly shouted.

Child? What child? Was there a kid in here too?

"Don't give me that," another voice, what did Phantom call her… Spectra?… growled in rebuttal. "Just because I'm his little errand girl now doesn't mean that I don't need to eat. A girl can't subsist off of table scraps alone, my dear."

Eat! What did that mean? She was going to eat the kid they stole?

"He's not going to like this," the male voice said. Apprehension could be heard clearly in his tone. Who was this 'he' they kept referring to?

"Then he doesn't need to know!" Spectra snapped. She continued in a tone so low, it was barely audible. "Or would you rather I do to you what I plan to do to that little brat?" The way she spoke, it felt like she harbored a personal hatred for the kid.

The male never responded to her question. Spectra laughed darkly. "Just do your job. If I catch you slacking… well… I always have room for desert."

Subsequently, the door slammed open in dramatic fashion. The light from outside flooded her room and blinded her eyes, but it was a welcome alternative to the eerie dark. A tall, humanoid shadow stood in stark contrast at the doorway. Malice seemed to almost roll off of her imposing form in waves.

"Madeline Jasmine Fenton," Spectra spoke in a sickly sweet voice, "How I have always wanted to meet you."

Maddie tried scrambling into a standing position, but found that she was awkwardly bound to the floor in the middle of the room. The chains were loose enough to sit, but she couldn't quite stand up straight. Settling on a crouched position, Maddie observed, "and you're Spectra."

"Please." Her teeth flashed unsettlingly behind the shroud of shadows that could be considered her lips. "Call me Penelope." Her blood red eyes took on the shape of crescents as she fondly observed the room. "I have to say, I love what you've done to the place."

"Let me go!" Maddie demanded.

"Uh-uh-uh," Spectra chided in a sing song voice. "So hasty." She held a clawed hand to her chest innocently. "I've barely introduced myself to you and you're already shouting unreasonable demands. It's a wonder anyone can stand you."

 _I don't have time for this!_

From somewhere not quite discernible within her chest, she felt a sea of ice stir. Dark colored rings sprang from her waist and wavered before dissipating once again.

 _Darn it. Please just work this time! I gotta get out of here._

She closed her eyes and searched for the pit of vast cold that represented… something..., but it was unruly and difficult to grasp. Everytime she thought she had it, it slipped away from her.

Spectra leaned nonchalantly against the door jam. At the sound of her moving, Maddie's eyes shot open. If looks could kill, then Spectra would have surely perished.

"Oh, no. Don't stop on my account. By all means, continue."

"You're despicable," Maddie hissed.

"No." Spectra shook her head slowly as though she were disagreeing with a child. "I'm not. I merely speak the truth. You," she pointed accusingly at her, "I know what you are, halfa. You are the despicable one in this room."

Maddie's panicked thoughts halted at that singular declaration.

 _A halfa?_

"Come now. You didn't really expect me to not know what you are, did you?" She sauntered deeper into the room. "Please, give me some more credit. I don't need clairvoyance to know an abomination when I see one. And you, sweetheart." She was so close now that Maddie could feel the residual static of Spectra's aura. It made her skin crawl with pins and needles. "Are the very definition of abhorrent.

"I may not be able to pay you back for what you did to my Bertrand. But-" She produced a knife from seemingly nowhere. "Let's just say that I have ways of getting what I want."

Maddie's eyes widened. "Get that away from me!" she screamed. Her limbs thrashed against the chains earning her nothing but bruises and crushed hope.

Spectra lovingly shushed her. "There, there," she consoled as she pulled away Maddie's hood. Her hand forcibly grabbed her by her hair. "If you don't struggle, then this won't hurt…" The knife moved beyond Maddie's range of vision and, dull as it was, removed a shock of her red hair. The pressure on Maddie's head disappeared as Spectra released her cold grip.

Upon inspecting her prize, Spectra wore a face of disgust. "You really need to take better care of yourself, dear. You have split ends." Her clawed fingers tied the lock into a loose knot.

"Th-that's it?" Maddie stuttered. Her heart was hammering in her chest. This ghost was something to be feared.

 _I understand why Phantom attacked her on site, now._

Spectra smiled politely. "Oh, yes. This will do nicely." Maddie watched her intently as she pocketed the knife somewhere within the folds of her shadowed torso. "This will do _very_ nicely."

She turned her back and began to make her exit. Maddie's stomach lurched. Never in a million years did Maddie ever think that a ghost could have such a strong upper hand over her. She trained. She learned. She armed herself. Where did she go wrong?

"Oh!" Spectra paused just beyond the threshold. "I almost forgot. You pitiful life forms require so much maintenance." Her inky silhouette disappeared for a second before returning. She was pushing an ancient cart, the wheels of which made an unholy sound against the aging linoleum in the hallway.

"Here." She dropped an old, rusted pail with about an inch of water within range of Maddie's chains. "Don't say I never got you anything."

And with that, she left as quickly as she came. The door slammed shut with a very heavy and metallic sound, leaving Maddie to her own thoughts in the darkness.

She swallowed and focused on breathing.

 _I can make it through this. I just have to remain calm._

But to be completely and fully honest, Spectra had rattled her to her core. She felt… drained for lack of a better word. Like something terrible was eating away at her.

Shakily, she replaced her hood and studied her barely visible hand with intense scrutiny. As cold as she was already, she felt a different type of cold stir within her. It was that same detestable cold feeling that she had been having for about two days now.

Dark rings, accentuated with a sort of white haze, lept from her form again. Only this time, they traversed the contours of her body and inverted the colors of her suit. It was a gross feeling, and one that she did not want to experience right now.

 _Why now!? I wanted you to do this earlier, not now!_

A subtle light dusted her immediate area. She stupidly looked around before realizing that it was coming from her now orange suit. Strange as it was, she did feel a little bit more comfortable, now. More powerful, less manageable.

 _More ghost-like._

Maddie shook herself. No. She did NOT feel like a ghost. Ghosts were evil, manipulative by nature. If anything, Spectra proved that. This… this was just a trick of the eyes. A little costume change here. A little bit of glowing there. Nothing terrible.

 _But I was captured in the thermos._

No. She only thought she was captured in the thermos. Afterall, only ghosts could be crammed into such a small space. Cramming a human in such a device would never work.

 _I just passed out, is all._

But she very vividly remembered the alien pull of her own invention as it warped the dimensions of her body into something more portable and convenient. Maddie frowned and flexed her hand in front of her face. Well, either way, her body was solid now, at least.

The glow was just… creepy though. The cold, squirmy feeling didn't help either. It was like she needed to move. Being pinned to the ground was almost akin to torture.

 _I am NOT a ghost._

Deep in her gut, though, she knew. She knew that while she wasn't quite a ghost, she wasn't quite human either. Heck, even in her two days of existing as… whatever she was… she was already hunted by both humans and ghosts.

She sighed heavily. She hated ghosts, _oh did she hate ghosts,_ but she would give anything to be able to just turn intangible and fly home. This… form… whatever it was, was completely useless. It had done nothing for her. Ever since she discovered this, her life had been a living hell.

 _And now I'm held against my will by some horrible ghost._

And by horrible, did she ever mean horrible. Spectra made Phantom seem like a saint in comparison. At least, when Phantom wins his battles, he just tosses the losers in the ghost zone.

 _Wait a second. Phantom was in that thermos too!_

For some reason, that made her feel an inkling better. Phantom had, for whatever unknown and probably diabolical reason, allied himself with the living. Maybe, _just maybe,_ if he knew that she was still… well… not a ghost… then he would be inclined to help her home. He had, for some inconceivable purpose, already saved her from the Red Huntress yesterday.

She paused. The last time she saw Phantom, he wasn't looking very well. That cat-like ghost had nearly shredded him. Not to mention his arm looked terrible. Maddie winced. Would her body have the same kind of reaction to that weapon now that she was…

 _No. You need to focus._

She reigned in her thoughts from whatever dark whirlpool they were swimming in. She was _not_ dead. She was still very much alive. Her heartbeat proved that. She just… looked different now.

And Phantom… even assuming that he could break free of whatever cage they made for him, he would probably be too weak to truly escape. He'd be attacked and recaptured again and again. The possibility of him rescuing her was slim if any at all.

She shivered. A scenario in which she had to fight Spectra unarmed was becoming more and more real. Not to mention what other staff of ghosts she had at her command. That cat ghost was tough enough. She wasn't even sure that she could fend off a weak ghost, as underprepared as she was.

"I hate this," she whimpered to herself. The black ring reappeared, wavered, and fizzled out. Then it sprang back to life again, wavered, and fizzled out. It was too much. This was all way _way_ too much.

She pulled her legs and arms into herself as far as she could. The restraints were terrible. They itched. They pulled. They made all kinds of gross scraping and screeching noises. And on top of that, they banged against her bruised wrists.

 _Wait. My wrists don't hurt anymore._

Pointedly ignoring the ring that kept appearing in her peripheral, she pulled off a glove and stared at her bare hand. The glove had lost its iridescent quality and returned to its original teal shade of blue. Her hand, however, continued to glow. Her skin tone had changed from her normal, healthy color to a sickening shade of blue.

She sucked in a startled breath. This was the first time she had seen her actual skin in this form.

 _This hand… can't be my hand…_

But it moved, flexed, and rotated whenever she commanded it to. This hand… and this body… they were her's. Quickly, she ripped off her other glove and her boots and socks. The same blue skin greeted her.

She didn't know it was possible, but her heart dropped even lower. To say her moral was waning would be the understatement of the century.

 _I'm hideous. I look no different from any other ghost. I just want to go back!_

And like that, the ring stopped wavering. Then, it split in half and washed over her body longitudinally, attracting all spectral energy to it like a magnet.

Maddie watched in awe as her body reverted back into its human appearance. No, not just appearance. She was human, damnit! She could just… change herself to look like a ghost. That was it! She was a human with a ghost appearance. Not the other way around.

 _Okay. Calm. Down._

She breathed in and out slowly, allowing the rhythm to soothe her nerves. She was Maddie Fenton! She couldn't afford to let any situation get the best of her, particularly life threatening ones such as this one.

After affording some time to settle herself, she decided to scour her surroundings for any possible escape routes.

The room she was in was completely empty. The walls were made of cinder block, but they were old and crumbling in on themselves. The floor appeared to have had linoleum on it at one point, but now it was peeling up, revealing the hard, unforgiving concrete surface beneath it. There were no windows, and the only door was the metal one that Spectra had entered through. If it wasn't sturdy, then it certainly looked the part.

Maddie sighed heavily. The more she observed, the more helpless she felt.

 _Trying to escape now is pointless. I'm better off biding my time and saving my energy._

She looked to her right where Spectra had left the meager water source. It didn't look safe to drink, but she figured that if Spectra had wanted to kill her, she'd have already done it. Wishing she was anywhere but there, she screwed her eyes shut and took a long drought from the murky water. It tasted disgusting, but it was better than nothing. She wondered vaguely what Spectra would feed her if this is what she considered appropriate drinking water.

She suddenly jumped at the sound of distant commotion. The sounds of crashing and yelling echoed down the empty expanse of the hallway just outside the door. Ignoring the musty smell of the old concrete, she lowered her head and placed an ear to the ground.

Sounds flooded in from all around her. She could hear distant footsteps, doors opening and closing, but most of all, she could hear someone yelling. She couldn't make out what the voices were saying, but it didn't sound to be in her favor.

 _How many people does she have imprisoned here? Are they all like me?_

A massive boom shook the building, and bits of the wall and ceiling crumbled followed by the sound of maniacal laughter. She'd only just met her, but she'd never forget the sound of Spectra's voice, particularly her laugh. It was dark and horrible. Whatever it was that earned that laugh couldn't have been good.

She gathered her limbs and sat in silence, hoping to hear anything else, but nothing greeted her. She hardly noticed when she finally succumbed to her exhaustion.

* * *

She awoke when the metal door rudely swung open, revealing an older woman. Though her hair was greyed and frazzled, she had styled it so that it stood on end. She appeared strange, but the human presence and kind expression soothed Maddie's nerves a little bit.

"Thank goodness," Maddie choked. "You gotta help me." The woman's eyebrows arched. "There's this crazy ghost. She has people locked up. You gotta help!"

The woman smiled politely and closed the door behind her. Her eyes glowed red in the dark. "Oh please. Do tell me about this crazy ghost," she purred.

"Sp- sp-" Maddie stuttered. This woman… couldn't be…

"Surprised?" the woman cackled. Yes. This was Spectra. "I know I don't look my best now, but" she sucked in a breath, "with all this fresh misery just floating around, I'll be back to my lucious self soon enough. Don't you think?" She examined her nails with a glutinous smirk.

Afraid of what this unpredictable ghost might do, Maddie scooted as far back into the room as her chains would allow.

"Can you believe it? Just one night of luxury and poof!" Spectra leveled an evil glare. "There's nothing more nourishing than desperation, you know. And I'll tell you what, after seeing your hair, your son was more than desperate."

 _Danny?_

She snaked an arm around Maddie's shoulders. "Can you believe that he had the gall to threaten me? I mean really. You Fentons are a rare breed." She broke off into another round of laughter. "It's a pity that I can't hurt you," she continued, "his pain was just so delicious, I find myself wanting more."

Maddie roared with parental fury.

 _How dare she!_

"Don't you _dare_ lay a hand on Danny!" Maddie attempted to wrench away from her grasp, but was stopped by the chains yet again.

"Oh my." Spectra held a hand to her mouth. "Madeline, my dear, has anyone ever told you how truly hideous you are when you're angry. You'll make yourself grey if you don't calm down."

An animalistic growl escaped Maddie's lips. It didn't even sound human in her own ears, but the realization escaped her in her fury. She was going to kill Spectra even if it was the last thing she'd do.

"Oh dear." Spectra reached into her handbag and produced a small powder box. She opened it to reveal a mirror on the inside of its lid. "You might want to control yourself in the future unless you want everyone to know what kind of monster you are."

Against her will, Maddie's attention snapped to her own reflection. She saw herself, but behind her goggles were gleaming red eyes. Despite her anger, her heart lurched against her ribcage.

 _That's me?_

"Pity. With the proper skin care and hair products, you could have been a beauty, just like your daughter." Spectra tsked disappointedly. "Oh well. Not everyone can have my devilish good looks."

At the mention of her other child, Maddie rounded on Spectra yet again. Something within her snapped, and she felt the cold inside her react to it. The air immediately adopted a strong feeling of static electricity.

Spectra wisely backed away from Maddie's reach before giving her a sarcastic round of applause. "Oh yes. That's the spirit, Madeline," she cheered. "That's just the reaction I wanted to see!" She whipped the mirror back in her direction. "Look at yourself!" she demanded. "You're a monster!"

Again, Maddie's eyes snapped to her reflection. The room was dark, but her body was brightly illuminated. She didn't ever remember doing it, but apparently she had already changed into her ghostly appearance. A bright orange figure stared back at her. Its teeth were pointed and bared, and its eyes shone with a hateful red. The visible skin on its face carried the sickly blue parlor of death.

Maddie gasped and scrambled backwards as though distance alone could separate her from the figure in the mirror.

 _That's not me. That can't be me._

Spectra laughed again and shook her head with pity. "Don't you see," she said, "there's no home for you." With an air of calmness, she snapped shut her powder box and returned it to her handbag. "What would your children think of you?" She frowned in false sympathy as she dusted off her skirt.

Maddie recoiled. Her words were like venom that seeped deeper into her heart. They hurt so bad.

Spectra rested her head in her hand with a look of forced boredom. "What would Jack think of you?" she asked. Her fingers thrummed against her lips in thought. "A strong ghost hunter such as himself would surely hate a thing like you."

Spectra didn't need to say more. She knew how Jack would look at her: angry with a hint of childlike wonder and eagerness. He'd sooner lock her up and experiment on her than listen to a word she had to say.

"No matter." She waved her hand dismissively and opened the door to her room. "It's not like you'll ever see him again anyway." Somehow, she looked younger as she turned and addressed someone out of sight. "I want this thing fed and watered by midnight tonight." The door slammed shut behind her. "Don't disappoint me."

At the mention of food, her stomach turned violently. She was so hungry. How long had it been since her last meal? Why had she skipped dinner that night? For her diet? Something as simple and domestic as a diet seemed almost imaginary in comparison to her current situation.

Numerous tremors suddenly wracked the building, causing its old foundation to shudder and groan. Whoever Spectra was currently harassing was apparently capable of large explosions. Maddie probably should have been more scared than she was, but all she could do was hope that whoever was causing that racket could score a hit on that spectral terror.

Ice crept from beneath the door, obviously supernatural in nature. Spectra could be heard shouting furiously from down the hall.

"I thought you drugged him!" she screamed. Yet another boom shook the building. Impossibly, a tired smirk graced Maddie's features.

 _If I'm doomed to die in this building, then I want whoever that is to take Spectra out with us._

"I did!" the male voice answered from the opposite side of the hall.

"Then give him more!" Maddie watched as the lights in the hallway flickered. The cold snap and explosions were really testing the building's utilities. Maddie withdrew herself as far as she could from the door as the frost began encroaching even further into her territory.

Loud screeching heralded the arrival of a cart as it flew down the hallway. "You told me not to give him too much!" the male voice countered.

A final explosion was all the building could take before losing power. The lights all shut off at the same time, plunging the already dim room into complete darkness.

"You dare question me!?" Something roared loudly and green flashed from beneath the door. "Just get in there!"

And then, it was like a light switch had been flipped. Static electricity immediately permeated the air, and ice quickly solidified all surfaces. Caterwauls of pure rage pierced the ambient murmurs of the aging structure. Whoever was responsible for the supernatural display was _very_ unhappy about being drugged to say the least.

Something crashed, and Maddie assumed that it was the cart being catapulted by whatever ghost they were torturing. Another explosion shook her door free from its frozen hinges, and it fell with a loud, reverberating smack.

With the door gone, the green flashes were nearly blinding. To look out into the hallway was like trying to stare at a tactical strobe light. Maddie blinked her burning eyes.

 _The door is gone… The door is gone!_

Freedom was so close. Fresh air, though frigid and tinged with the acrid scent of ectoplasm, happily rushed into the room, refreshing Maddie's sense of hope. She began struggling as much as she could against her chains. Unfortunately, they held fast despite being subject to the extreme temperature changes.

Maddie growled in frustration. The cold sensation, whatever it was, stirred excitedly at the prospect of freedom, and she found herself clawing at the bracket pinning her chains to the floor.

 _I'm so close. Don't deny me this, please!_

As if the other ghost could hear her internal pleas, another wave of cold rushed through the air and assaulted the aging metal of her bindings. The green strobing was beginning to slow down, though. If she was going to get out, then she needed to do so now!

She lined up her heel with the bracket and kicked out with as much might as she could muster. After about the third hit, she felt it give way.

 _This is it!_

One final heave pulled the chains free from their binds. They still bangled loudly on her wrists and ankles, but she was no longer pinned to the ground. This was a major improvement! Adrenaline spiked as she anticipated her escape.

Her legs propelled her through the doorway. To her left was a dead end, and to her right was the source of the commotion. What looked like miniature lightning strikes jumped into the hallway from a door that had been frozen ajar.

Maddie shuddered.

 _What on Earth could possibly cause so much destruction while half-drugged._

A red headed woman stumbled out of the lightning room. She turned and glared at Maddie with hateful red eyes, but said nothing. One of her arms was missing, and jet black ectoplasm pooled at her feet like some kind of sick oil spill. Despite the radical difference in age, something in the back of Maddie's mind supplied that this was Spectra.

Maddie dug her feet into the snow and ice that littered the hallway. She was not about to back down now. Spectra acknowledged this with a small, feral growl, spitting something obscene about the Fenton bloodline.

"Get out of my site," Spectra hissed. She looked like she was on the verge of attacking, but couldn't quite summon the strength to do so. Ice crawled up her legs and inched along the wall, further rooting the ghost in place.

Maddie wasn't an idiot, though. She knew better than to walk into uncharted territory, and the numerous doors that lined each side of the hallway could each hold its own horror. "Where's your assistant?"

Spectra narrowed her eyes and glanced to her side where a lump of ice and snow sat motionless on the ground. "I would say he just got fired, but I don't think that's an appropriate choice of words."

 _Oh._

A bolt of green lightning flew through the open door and struck Spectra. She howled and rounded on the room screeching barely comprehensible threats and insults. She kicked her feet free of their icy encasing and stomped away, maring the fresh snow with a trail of otherworldly black ichor.

"You're not… going to stop me?" Maddie questioned.

Spectra paused, turned her head and sneered, "I've already done what I needed to." She spared one last hateful glance at the frozen doorway. "And there is always easier prey." She brushed some stray hairs back behind her ear and continued her exit, finally phasing through a wall at the far end of the hallway.

* * *

A/N: And the third chapter bites the dust. There are parts of this one that I like, and parts that I don't, but ah well. That's just how the cookie crumbles I suppose.

Settling inside Maddie's point of view is difficult. As the writter/reader, there's so many things that we know that Maddie doesn't. It was difficult to really peg what conclusions Maddie would draw when thrown into this particular situation. I did my best to characterize her while also keeping her in the dark. I hope it turned out well.

I'm still new to writing, and I know I have room for improvement, so if any of you have any suggestions, please let me know!

Thanks for reading :)


	4. Chapter 4

Cassiopeia: The Arrogant Queen

Chapter 4

* * *

Maddie licked her lips which had gone dry from the cool air. A hallway, bleak, run down, and dreary yawned in front of her. Twisted metal cages that had once held fluorescent light bulbs lined the ceiling like the teeth of a crocodile's mouth. Thick snow fall blanketed the flooring in about of foot of powder, and ice crept upwards along the wall. The building creaked and groaned at the abusive weathering, threatening to collapse.

The light orange glow of Maddie's suit reflected and played among the prisms in the ice. Even though her glow was naturally dim, just watching the light dance in the bright snow made her feel stronger. Like she was the warm winter sun rising over a deserted arctic hell.

Since watching Spectra make her leave, Maddie just felt inexplicably better. Her mind didn't feel so sluggish and trapped, and her body felt a little bit lighter. Confidence surged from somewhere misplaced as she sized up her next job.

 _Find Danny._

Motherly instincts raged inside her like a stoked tornado of fire. Thankfully, the destruction that allowed her to escape the cell didn't just stop at her. Nearly every other door had been either knocked over or severely weakened. Only the furthest doors from the cold snap remained untouched.

Unfortunately, among the doors that were still up were the two that Maddie assumed to be the exit.

 _Doesn't matter. Just gotta worry about finding Danny now. I'll figure out how to leave later._

She made it to the first door on her right. It took a couple of shoves, but it came loose rather easily. She peered inside only to find dilapidated lounge furniture and a row of beds.

 _Not here._

She crossed to the next door. This one was actually completely removed from its frame and pressed against the far wall of the room. The room itself was similarly furnished as the other one was, but had suffered a little more trauma from the ice.

 _Not here either._

Her hand hovered just outside another door, when Maddie suddenly paused. She looked herself up and down with a frustrated scowl. Orange gloves. Orange boots. Orange jumpsuit. Her eyes were still red, no doubt.

 _Even if I find him, he won't trust me enough to leave with me._

She cursed her rotten luck, and desperately tried to remember how to return to her normal self. She breathed in. Breathed out. Focused on… warmth? Humanity? Not being a ghost? But no dice. She didn't get so much as a flicker of anything.

 _Useless stupid ring._

She cursed out loud while continuing to open every door she came across. A sense of urgency was compelling her forward, despite her current appearance.

 _If Danny won't leave with me, then I'll just have to force him._

At the last door, Maddie had to come to a conclusion that she didn't want to make. Danny was not in any of the rooms. He was either locked up with whatever ghost destroyed the place, or he was in an entirely different wing.

A brief survey of the doors labeled 'exit' yielded padlocks. They didn't even have the decency to be on her side of the door. She tried to peer through the small, rectangular windows, but couldn't see far because her glow painted her reflection over the glass. All she could make out was some sort of semi-outdoor courtyard.

Quickly turning away, she spared herself the mercy of having to see her own face again. It was still too raw in her mind. Associating herself with this new appearance was not something she wanted to tackle today.

That left her with one last option. She had to investigate the last room in the wing. She stared at the snow and ice that had overflowed into the hallway from the room. The green lightening and strobing had long since stopped, and all signs of spectral activity had waned to near nonexistant.

Maddie swallowed hard. She was a Fenton! A world renowned ghost hunter. One measly, sedated, and restrained ghost did _not_ scare her.

She forced her feet to stomp towards the doorway, but stopped just short of its threshold. With her thumbs, she wiped the frozen condensation from her goggles and fiddled with the mouth of one her gloves.

 _Now or never._

Without giving herself the chance for any second guesses, she poked her head around the corner. Large curtains of ice and spikes greeted her. Black ectoplasm was frozen into slick, alien structures, obscuring anything that may lurk within the dark recesses of the room.

She could make just barely make out the vague shape of Spectra's arm as it hung suspended in a pair of gigantic ice scissors whose blades sprouted from the floor like some kind of morbid modern art installation. Upon closer inspection, she could see an empty syringe bottle frozen to her fingertips.

In a last ditch effort to avoid going into what was obviously a death trap, Maddie whispered Danny's name into the room. Of course, there was no answer, so Maddie had to investigate it first hand anyway.

 _Maybe… maybe whoever is in there knows where he is._

She took a quick, bold step into the thick blanket of snow, and immediately regretted it. Her foot sank at least a foot and a half. The ice flows quivered as though they were aware of her presence, and the snow shifted uneasily beneath the rubber soles of her boots. Her heart slammed into her throat when something growled softly at her from out of sight.

Accepting the warning, she backed away slowly and did the only thing she could think of. "H-hello?" Her voice cracked from either exhaustion or fear, or maybe a combination of the two. If she could just make contact with whatever this was, maybe it would understand that she wasn't here to hurt it. "I'm not here to hurt you…"

Whatever it was didn't respond though, perhaps too laiden with whatever sedative Spectra had administered to properly react.

She waited with baited breath, but nothing happened so she decided to try again. This time, though, she very carefully stepped into the snow instead of just trying to walk through it normally. "I'm coming in," she warned in as gentle a voice as she could muster. The snow crunched and gave way, letting her foot sink into its cold embrace, but otherwise showed no sign of movement.

Maddie accepted this as an invitation, and took her second step into the room. Then her third, and her fourth. She rounded several walls of ice and the scissors until she was somewhere in the center of the room. Though it was dark, her glow helped her navigate the perilous blades of ice that seemed to randomly protrude from the floor and walls.

But the room was otherwise empty.

 _That can't be right._

She stepped a little bit further and her foot brushed against something that was hidden beneath the snow. She jumped back in surprise, somehow just narrowly avoiding getting impaled by a smattering of spikes that were resting behind her.

Carefully, she reached out with her foot again, letting it search through the blanket of white. The more snow she turned up, the more ectoplasm she found. Green and red mared the purity of the landscape with its taint. Eventually, her foot came in contact with something substantial, but unmoving.

Maddie groaned inwardly.

 _Of course the ghost would be buried. Why would my day go any different?_

Slowly at first, Maddie began to shovel the snow away with her hands with increasing vigor. Her fingers and toes ached with cold, and her nose began to run. She was grateful that her goggles shielded her eyes from the harsh environment.

 _Whoever this is better appreciate what I'm doing._

Her hands brushed against something metal. She traced it with her fingers to find what she thought might be the ghost's hands. She pushed aside a mountain of snow, revealing black. At first, she thought it was another frozen pool of Spectra, but upon closer inspection, it was a rubbery material, same as her own suit.

Her heart skipped a beat.

 _Phantom?_

She pulled on the black suit, and his arm came free from its cold tomb. His fist was closed, and the shackle bangled loose around his wrist.

 _White glove. Black sleeve. This is Phantom! Had he always been capable of this much destruction?_

Maddie dropped the arm as though she had been burned. Phantom had hunted her not once, but twice now! And he threatened her family. Not only that, but he was also incredibly destructive if the current state of his cell was anything to go by. He was far too dangerous to set free...

But then again, she really had no choice. Not only did she not know where Danny was, she couldn't even open any doors. She sighed heavily.

 _You had better really appreciate this, Phantom._

After what felt like something close to half an hour, Maddie had managed to not only unearth Phantom, but also break the chains that were pinning him in place. She hoisted his frozen form over her shoulder and pulled him into the hallway where it was a little warmer and less booby trapped.

From one of the rooms she had managed to open, some sort of old office, Maddie tore apart an old, rotting wooden desk. This was, thankfully, the old office of someone who smoked, so matches were plentiful. Ignoring general safety rules like, 'don't start fires in old buildings,' Maddie struck up a warm and welcoming fire in the old building, hoping that the smoke wouldn't suffocate her before Phantom woke up.

She pulled Phantom by his armpits and dragged him into the office next to the fire. It was strange how corporeal he was. Most ghosts were more… gooey when they were unconscious. Phantom, however, felt as solid as flesh and bone.

The fire shed warm, mobile light over his features, and Maddie was nearly appalled at the sheer extent of damage that Phantom had taken. Only nearly though. He was, after all, just a ghost.

His face was bruised and swollen. Patches of 'skin' were missing, almost as though it had been been deliberately shaved away in places. Old scratch marks flayed the false flesh of his abdomen with green and red scabs. But the worst thing was the arm that she had shot the other night.

The skin around it was dark and, if she didn't know any better, she'd say it was necrotic. Green continuously oozed from not only the wound, but also the cracks that had formed in the brittle skin around it. The stench of rot hung heavily in the air.

 _Strange. The old claw marks should have at least healed already. Maybe something to do with whatever they doped him up with._

Then, another thought hit her.

 _If he did that to Spectra for locking him up, then what would he do to me for shooting him?_

Her stomach squirmed uneasily as fantasies of Phantom going berserk the moment he woke up swarmed in her skull. This was a risk she'd have to take. She'd do anything to find her Danny.

She propped his head up on some old medical books she found, and straightened out his back and legs. Maybe, if she played her cards right, she could appease Phantom enough to have him help her.

It was a long shot, but it was a shot at least.

And then, the waiting game began.

It would have been easier if she weren't in what she now recognized as some creepy abandoned hospital, but that's where she was. The building groaned, and the fire cast eerie shadows that danced on the wall. The melting ice made strange and echoey cracking noises that she kept mistaking for footsteps.

 _I couldn't have been trapped in someplace nice, now could I? No, that would have been too easy._

She busied herself by removing the cold shackles that still rattled around her wrists and ankles. With a little bit of force, the metal begrudgingly gave beneath her insistent struggling. She relaxed and let the blissful silence envelope her. No chains, no creepy rattling noises.

Then, she nearly jumped out of her own skin when Phantom made his first stir. It wasn't much, but Phantom rolled to his side and curled into a ball. Shivers wracked his form, and small breaths, similar to snores, hissed between clattering teeth.

Maddie blinked incredulously.

 _Is Phantom seriously cold? Wasn't he the one who caused all of this ice in the first place?_

Nevertheless, Maddie obliged Phantom by pulling him closer to the fire. He didn't really react to being touched, but once brought close to the warmth, he sighed and unfurled a little bit. Maddie rolled her eyes in irritation.

 _Of course the ghost that can freeze entire buildings is cold. What else would make sense?_

Once he had warmed up (and the fire had become increasingly unsettling), Maddie set about trying to wake the volatile ghost. "Phantom," she whispered as she lightly shook his shoulder. He grumbled, waved his hand, but didn't wake. Maddie set her jaw stubbornly, and slapped him lightly on the cheek.

The reaction was instant. Phantom's aura nearly exploded with intensity as his eyes shot open. His glare was imbued with such incredible, perverse, and awe-inspiring rage that Maddie could hardly move. As quick as lightning, Phantom whipped around and aimed an ectoplasmically charged fist at her face. "You-" he roared, but suddenly froze when he got a face full of Maddie's orange outfit.

 _This is it. I'm gonna die._

His mouth closed, opened, then closed again. The impossibly bright aura around him crackled and faded until it had faded into nothing. His eyebrows looked like they were doing a rather impressive impression of her late grandmother's knitting needles. "You- you- you-," he stuttered as he tried to regain his bearings. "You're not Spectra!"

Maddie winced. After being submerged in near silence for as long as she had and flinching at every pin drop, Phantom's loud, slurred voice was grating and nerve wracking.

He looked around, appearing more and more docile by the second. His gaze took on the look of a thousand yard stare, and his body gradually grew more limp. He was still quite sedated, Maddie realized.

 _He hasn't killed me yet. I can work with this._

His stare finally fixated on the fire that crackled lightly in front of him. "It's cold in here," he observed. Maddie slumped, grateful that Phantom hadn't gone ballistic like he did earlier. "There's a ghost nearby." His breath misted in front of him as he warmed himself by the fire.

Now it was Maddie's turn to be confused. Apart from Phantom, there was no other ghost, unless you counted the ice cube that used to be Spectra's assistant that was still defrosting in the hallway. He must be really out of it.

He snuffled loudly, set something on the floor, and pulled his gloves off, letting the fire warm his fingers. "There's a ghost nearby. It's cold," he repeated to himself. His head began to sag, and his eyes fluttered shut. His hands fell to the floor softly. "Cold."

Maddie watched Phantom fall back asleep, before mentally slapping herself. She needed him awake enough to navigate, so she gently shook his shoulder again. Slapping him was apparently a no-no.

He stirred tiredly, then jumped when he breathed another burst of cold air. "Ghost!" he yelled, or what would count as yelling in his current inebriated state. He turned and met Maddie's red gaze with his own. Both of his eyes were so dilated, that only the smallest sliver of green could be seen bordering his pupils.

Then, as though some kind of support had been suddenly removed, he slumped against her drunkenly. Surprised and more than a little bit uncomfortable, Maddie immediately began to worm underneath his dead weight. "Phantom!" she protested, "Get off of me."

But he just looked up at her from her lap with a vacant stare. Then, he pointed a finger so close to her nose that Maddie went cock-eyed. "You're not Spectra," he grunted.

"No, I'm not," Maddie agreed as she tried to shove him off of her. He was so limp, though, that he just kept sagging right back and in increasingly awkward positions.

"Ghost," he whispered. "Cold." He shivered and his breath misted again.

 _What is he saying? Is he calling me a ghost? No. That couldn't be._

Maddie's lips pressed into a thin, hard line. "Phantom," she said, trying her best to sound patient when she really wasn't, "I need you to focus."

Phantom's eyes had already closed again, but by some miracle, he hadn't fallen back to sleep. "Focus?" he repeated.

"Yes! Focus!" Maddie exclaimed. "I need you to focus." She pushed him back into a sitting position, but had to keep an arm extended to support him.

His head lolled at the motion, and his eyes cracked open. "Focus… focus…" He repeated the word to himself like it was a holy mantra. He really was battling whatever drug it was as hard as he could.

 _Good. This is progress._

Then, he sat bolt upright. "Mom!" he yelped as he scooped whatever he was holding before back off the ground.

 _And now we're regressing. Great._

Maddie cautiously watched Phantom as he struggled with his legs. It took more than a few tries, but he managed to organize his limbs enough to stand. His gloves remained forgotten on the floor, and it was strange to see Phantom without them. "Gotta-" he started as he fell flat on his face. "Ow…" he groaned.

Maddie scowled and scooted over close to him so that she could roll him onto his back. He was breathing harshly, not that it mattered. Something was clutched tightly in his good hand. "My mom…" he whimpered between breaths. His eyes were screwed shut as he fought for control of his body.

Curiosity peaked, Maddie moved to grab whatever it was the Phantom was holding, but he grumbled at her moodily and pulled his hand closer to his chest."Mine!" he declared.

 _I don't have time for this. He's acting like a five year-old._

"Just let me see it!" Maddie demanded in a strict voice.

Phantom's eyes roamed her face, searching for something. Whatever it was, he must have found it, because he smiled the infamous crooked smile that made his fans melt. To Maddie, however, that smile was the bane of her existence. It made her want to puke.

"My mom…" he slurred, "Spectra has her." He shuddered and more cool mist flew from his mouth. "Ghost near." He looked quizzically at her. "Ghost?"

Maddie groaned in impatient frustration. "Do I look like a ghost to you?" she quipped. Phantom opened his mouth to reply, but Maddie beat him to it. "I am _not_ a ghost."

Phantom seemed skeptical at first, but appeared to accept her explanation for the time being. "Okay." Another puff of breath. "Ghost is close, though. Dangerous. Cold." He took a moment, his eyes screwing shut as he slowed his rapid breathing. Slowly, his fist uncurled revealing a red lock of hair. "Mom's," he explained. "Spectra hurt her."

Maddie nearly collapsed at the sight of it.

 _That is my hair!_

She snatched it from Phantom's open hand, ignoring his protests. Her eyes narrowed to slits as she studied the specimen.

 _She didn't give Danny my hair. Danny was never here. Spectra fed us both lies._

She held it inches from Phantom's face as she all but yelled, "Phantom, look! This is my hair! Your mom is not here!"

Phantom's features grew more and more confused. "Not here?" he asked.

"Yes!" With her son's safety confirmed, Maddie felt less urgent than she did before. She still wanted to escape of course, but she didn't feel like she needed to tear the building apart brick by brick anymore.

"But Spectra-" His face contorted with strenuous thought before his eyes snapped open in understanding. "Spectra lied!" he shouted. Then, he looked confused again. "Spectra never lies."

Maddie rolled her eyes. "All ghosts do is lie," she informed Phantom matter of factly. He appeared to just accept this detail without much thought, exhaustion and drugs obviously dulling his metal processes. In fact, Maddie was beginning to doubt that he even recognized her at all.

He laid on the floor for a moment longer, supposedly contemplating Spectra's lies. His chest rose with shaky breaths, and he was beginning to curl in to himself again. "My mom's not here?" he asked again.

"No," Maddie snapped. Her insides boiled with rage, but having no one to take it out on, she swallowed it to the best of her ability. Luckily, Phantom was already dozing off again so he didn't take offense to her tone.

 _Just gotta focus on getting out of here._

Ignoring the panicky feeling in her gut that told her to avoid Phantom like the nuclear bomb he was, she moved to shake his shoulder for the third time that day. This time, he roused rather easily, blinking the sleep from his eyes like he wasn't some sort of overpowered freak.

"Sleepy," he slurred, grumpily brushing her offending hand away. He pulled himself into a seated position and stared vacantly at nothing. His lack of aura was unnerving. So long as he was facing away from her, he looked almost human. It was nauseating.

 _Why does he, a ghost, get to look human when I don't!?_

Her stomach churned, and she was beginning to feel the effects of dehydration and starvation. Her head ached something awful, and she absolutely did _not_ have the patience to deal with a drunk, albeit not by choice, Phantom.

Not to mention that her fire, though probably necessary, was really beginning to fill the office with smoke and other fire related hazards. Even Phantom, with his current inebriation, was starting to notice and wave smoke from his face.

For reasons unknown, Phantom suddenly smirked lazily. He pointed a palm at the smoldering remains of a desk leg and blasted it with ice. Then, for the second time since he woke up, he made direct eye contact with Maddie, face taut and serious. "Only you can prevent wildfires," he said, before breaking into peels of laughter as though he just told the world's funniest joke.

He stood up, fell, and stood up again. His legs swayed beneath his weight, threatening to buckle from underneath him a third time. His green eyes, eerily vacant and dilated, watched her expectantly. He appeared far too at ease with his broken body than Maddie was strictly comfortable with.

 _I really_ really _cannot believe I'm about to do this._

Phantom's lazy smile grew when she stood up as well and began to pick her way over. The old floor was wet and slippery thanks to the melting snow, so Maddie had to choose her footholds wisely. Without the fire, she had to rely solely on her faint glow to light the way, but even that wasn't really enough light.

She neared him cautiously, not willing to get herself blasted with ice as well. Just because Phantom wasn't acting hostile, it certainly didn't mean that he wouldn't turn on her the first chance he got. If anything, he had already proved that he was not adverse to attacking her, even when she thought she was safe in her own home.

She stopped at what she thought was a respectful distance, not quite ready to interact with a mobile Phantom, but he was having none of that. He quickly closed the distance between them and threw an arm around her shoulder. His good arm, she noted. The bad one appeared to have some limited movement. He didn't keep it completely limp, but he didn't wave it around as much as he did the other.

Maddie inadvertently shivered at the foreign contact. She never found ghosts to be particularly pleasant creatures to be around, but actual willing physical contact was horrid. His aura, though incredibly dim to the point of almost nothing, was crackling with just enough static electricity to put the hairs of her nape on edge. Not to mention that weird, unnerving feeling of terror that accompanied the undead in general.

Phantom had nearly the same reaction. He shivered and puffed out more of that curious mist. He gave her a suspicious side eye, but said nothing for which Maddie was thankful. She'd deal with whatever she was when she was damn ready. And quite frankly, she was not ready now.

"Are you ready to go?" she prompted Phantom. He gave her a hazy look as his legs finally gave way. Maddie scrambled to pull him back up, and he ended up resting his weight, which was rather impressive given that he was a ghost, over her shoulder.

"Yeah," he breathed. "I wanna go home."

* * *

A/N: And another chapter bites the dust. Happier with this one than I was the last one. I think it feels more... polished I guess. In hindsight, I probably should have cut the last chapter in half and added some more juice, but whats done is done. If I fall into the cycle of knit picking, then I'd never post anything, so I'm trying my best to avoid that.

Anyway, yay! Danny is free too and has reunited with his mom (kinda). These two are so dense and like-minded that I can't imagine either of them figuring out the other in any sort of timely manner, so expect frustrating dramatic irony as they chase each other in circles.

As always, feedback is always appreciated. I'm new to writing, so any pointers or critiques are very useful.

Thank you for reading :)


	5. Chapter 5

Cassiopeia: The Arrogant Queen

Chapter 5

* * *

Home. To hear the word even mentioned sprung back vivid and joyous memories of her family. She wondered if they were looking for her now. How far from home exactly was she? How would she get back after she escaped the hospital?

Phantom squirmed impatiently in her arms, apparently as eager as she was to depart.

 _I'll figure all that stuff out later. First, I have to get out._

She gingerly led Phantom back into the hallway. Though it had already been quite a few hours, the snow and ice still stubbornly clung to every conceivable surface like some sort of surrealist arctic wasteland. Sunlight began to filter through the two doors at the end of the hall, just enough to light the way.

Phantom, blinked blearily at the chaos, surprise evident in his expression. "Wow! Did I do this?" Maddie took a moment to level a 'duh who else' look in his direction, but he was still too out of it to notice. "I mean, I don't remember doing this."

His eyes were wide open in wonderment as they made their way down the perilous landscape. As they approached the room he was confined in, Phantom abruptly stopped. Though hazy and unfocused, he stood up as tall as he could and scanned the area with intense scrutiny.

"Be careful," he whispered, "we're not alone." As he spoke, more mist snaked between his teeth, except this time instead of just being cold, it was downright frigid. "There's a ghost somewhere in here…"

Maddie eyed the exit that was not even 50 feet away from them like a starved vulture. She was so close, she could almost taste the freedom. For a moment, her foul mood got the best of her. She glowered at Phantom for impeding her progress.

 _What ghost? If there was another ghost here, I'd know it. He's lying._

"You mean besides you?" she bit out aggressively.

Unfortunately, Phantom chose this moment to sober up enough to read into body language and tone of voice. His aura flared up in annoyance, but he kept his gaze searching for whatever nonexistent threat he thought there was. "I mean," he ground out as loudly as he dared, "other than you."

For that, Maddie dropped him.

 _How dare he._

He tumbled rather ungracefully, landing face first into a snowdrift of his own creation with a strangled oof sound. Maddie stood tall over Phantom, glaring daggers as he clumsily tried to free himself. "Let's get something straight, Phantom," she spat, "I am not one of you."

Phantom mumbled something scathing into the snow, but the words were lost. His body had yet to fully cooperate with him, so he was having trouble enough just getting his arms beneath his torso. His bad arm bent outward from his body in an angle that couldn't be healthy while his other was flailing about uselessly.

Maddie watched his struggle with a self-satisfied smirk, fully aware that what she was doing was childish. She had such a rough couple of days, though, that she found it hard to care. She had to take her victories where she could get them, and Phantom had this coming for long enough.

When it became clear that he wasn't going to get out by himself, the older woman took great pleasure in lifting him up by his collar. It felt gratifying to exert her hard-earned strength on such an elusive and _annoying_ specimen such as Phantom. Well, it felt gratifying until she pulled him up.

As soon as he surfaced, the ghost immediately began sputtering and shivering, gulping as much air as he could. He wrapped his hurt arm around his heaving and still mutilated chest in what she assumed as a vague attempt at sheltering it. One eye was screwed shut while the other regarded her with a half-lidded attention she had yet to see demonstrated by him today. He was afraid, she realized. Afraid and worried about something.

Her gut churned guiltily. Picking on the weak was not like her. Sure, Phantom was terrible. He was evil, conniving, and whole-heartedly (if you could consider an ectoplasmic imitation of such an organ a heart) fiendish. But, it wasn't right of her to do this to him when he was so completely and utterly defeated.

Her scowl weakened against her will before she was able to school it into something more suave. The crack in her armor didn't go unnoticed by Phantom, who discretely broke eye-contact, giving the proud huntress the much needed time required to compose herself.

It took all her emotional strength to utter the next words that came from her mouth. It was like the words themselves were bitter, and they kept making her throat uncomfortably tight. To speak them invoked a feeling of disgust, but she knew that if she didn't, then she'd feel even worse.

"I-I-I" she struggled. Some sort of inner turmoil was burning within her. She could feel her face and ears flush, and an ugly little thought wondered what color her blush was exactly.

 _You're hideous. An abomination._

Maddie stopped. These thoughts, these weren't like her. She had her reservations about her appearance just like anyone else, but never had she ever felt so strongly about them.

 _A monster who can't even begin apologize for what you've done._

Where were these thoughts coming from? She blinked her eyes furiously because she was definitely _not_ tearing up. The goggles were just making her eyes dry and itchy.

She didn't ever recall doing it, but at some point or another she had already released Phantom. He was staring up at her from his perch on the ground. Not with the 'only-half-there' stare, but with a real, inspective stare. Like he was realizing something for the first time.

He looked around himself, taking note of everything in sight. The ice, the doors, the destroyed cart just to his side. He beheld it with a contemplative expression, understanding beginning to paint his features with a sober seriousness.

Then, his attention rested on her again, and she suddenly felt ridiculously self conscious. She aggressively shoved aside her reservations. This was neither the time nor the place for such weakness. This was an honest to god, real, life endangering situation. She'd do best not to mess things up for herself when she was already so close to escaping.

"Breathe." The word was spoken with authority, and she was surprised to find that it was Phantom who was the origin of such a commanding utterance. The pronunciation was perfect, clear, and concise. An order. Phantom had given her an order.

She'd be livid if she wasn't so freaked out right now. What was this? A panic attack?

With not much to fall back on, Maddie obeyed. Against her better judgement, she closed her eyes and focused on filling her lungs with the crisp, cool air. It always amazed her how such a simple action could always manage to calm her down. Her nerves were almost immediately better, and she managed to relax enough to unwind her clenched fists and jaw.

"Better?" She cracked open her eyes to see Phantom watching her. Ever articulate, her brain failed to produce a proper response, so Phantom continued. "I think… I think I might be drugged or something." He looked genuinely lost as he slowly blinked at his surroundings. In frustration, he pressed the heel of his palm against his head and grimaced. "Spectra…"

Suddenly, he snapped at attention. For the millionth time that day, he breathed that strange cool mist. It was so cold, that it turned into a light snow before it drifted to the ground. He abruptly swiveled his head, searching for something before scowling and smacking himself with his palm.

"Duh! I forgot about you." He swung his boot forward, and then rammed his heel into the block of ice he was sitting on. "Hey. If you can hear me, you'll defrost in about a day. Touch me or my mom again, and you'll get worse."

Then, he eyes widened with urgency. "Oh crud! My mom." Crippledness forgotten, Phantom sprang to his feet and began stumbling towards various rooms, looking into their dark depths and shouting with a desperation that was just too real to be a meer mimicry of the living.

In her vast knowledge of post-mortem psychology, Madde knew Phantom couldn't really feel for others, but this… this emotion felt legitimate. The woman felt her lips tug into a frown. This dangerous imitation was why Phantom posed such a large threat to human life. Just look at what he was capable of doing with minimal goading.

It took a moment, but Maddie had almost forgotten the reason he thought his mother had been captured. That conversation felt like eons ago. Phantom had been so out of it, he probably completely forgot.

"Phantom!" she waved her hand at him hoping to garner his attention. It worked. He stopped his panicked searching and waited impatiently for her response, rocking back and forth and fidgeting all the while. "You're mom's not here, remember?"

His face, quite expressive for a ghost, showed nothing but confusion. "Remember what?" he asked, voice laden with cautious suspicion.

Maddie padded up next to him, her feet making soft depressions in the sloshy snow and her glow creating mobile shadows within the prismatic effects of the ice structures. "Spectra gave you some hair, right? Told you it was your mom's?" Phantom's expression grew guarded, but he nonetheless nodded the affirmative. "It wasn't your mom's. You and I are the only, uh…" She was going to say people, but then again that didn't apply to Phantom. "We're the only ones here," she settled. "She gave you a lock of my hair and lied to you."

The ghost leveled her a look of pure, incredulous disbelief. "Let me get this straight." Skepticism practically dripped from his tone of voice. "Spectra gave me your hair." Maddie nodded. "Told me it was my mom's hair." Maddie nodded again. "To make me think she had my mom?"

"Yes!" Maddie threw her dayglow orange hands in the air. "Why is it so hard to believe!?"

Phantom's brow furrowed in intense thought. "Spectra never lies," he said as he dug the heel of his palm into his forehead. His eyes were starting to gloss back over, exhaustion and confusion returning to haunt him.

Maddie sighed deeply. Somehow, she was beginning to warm up to him. The scientist within her was screaming to not fall into Phantom's web, but he just looked so lost… And without his aura he looked painstakingly human. He knew all the right strings to pull, and she was falling for him.

A quiet, irritable growl escaped Phantom's lips, and Maddie was rudely brought back to reality, the sudden and completely rational fear that he might decide to go berserk again still fresh in her mind. Phantom was a ghost, a mere echo of consciousness. He was dangerous, unpredictable, and cunning. She was only using him as a means of escape, nothing else.

"Head hurts…" he mumbled, voice so quiet it was barely audible even in the dead silence. He sounded on the verge of tears as he lowered himself into a semi-seated position. It took more willpower than Maddie would admit to not attempt to comfort him. "It's cold."

 _Toughen up, Madds. This isn't like you. He only looks like a kid._

Swallowing her pride, her prejudice, and her maternal instincts, Maddie stood tall and strong.

 _Ghosts will_ not _get the best of me._

She didn't even give herself the chance to second guess her actions before she stooped low and scooped Phantom from the ground. He made a pitiful noise that made Maddie's heart lurch, but accepted the help nonetheless, graciously throwing his weight over her shoulder with whispered murmurs of appreciation.

Ignoring the lingering feel of dread, Maddie snaked her hand behind his shivering form, bracing it securely under the pit of his opposite arm. He leaned into her heavily as Maddie led them forward. It was slow going, and Phantom kept accidently stepping on her feet, but they eventually made it to the end of the long, eerie hallway.

Phantom's ice didn't make it this far, so the door to the courtyard remained steadfast in its frame, locked from the otherside with a strong, unerring padlock. Looking to her shoulder, she saw that Phantom was staring at it with a vacant expression. Now that he was no longer scared, the drug had regained its foothold on his psych, and he was becoming increasingly difficult to hold upright.

"Okay," she whispered, "this is where you shine." She took a tentative step forward, dragging Phantom along with her. "I need you to phase us out of here." Though eager to leave, she was careful to keep her tone cool and collected for fear of insulting Phantom again. "Think you can do that?"

Phantom's eyes flicked lazily toward her, then back to the door. "I… can try." The room took on a the feeling of light static electricity as his aura began to flicker back into existence. His brows furrowed deeply, and his lips were pressed tightly together. He glared at the door like it was the only thing that existed. Spears of cold lanced down Maddie's spine from Phantom, and the world suddenly felt distant and hazy.

 _Amazing! I've never been intangible before._

Her face broke into a manic, gleeful grin. This was working! She was going to escape!

Not wasting any time, Maddie sprang towards the door with all her might, desperate to break free of this prison, but she was only met with disappointment and pain.

Phantom's intangibility failed just as quickly as it had jolted to life, and the duo ended up smacking face first into the unforgiving metal. Flecks of aged blue paint stuck to the bare skin of their faces as they looked at each other in incredulity.

Phantom was the first to break their mutual silence, coughing lightly into his fist and smiling sheepishly. "I really thought that was going to work. I must be more out of it than I thought." He massaged his head where it had struck the door. Maddie did the same.

 _Well, what now?_

Maddie flopped to the ground in irritable fashion, growling and muttering curses. She was so close, she could taste it. And yet, no cigar. Where she had chosen to lay, the sun filtered through the reinforced glass and rested on her face, further taunting her with the concept of freedom.

Phantom gathered his unruly limbs and sat dazedly next to her, continuing to ram the heel of his palm into his temple. "I think I'm beginning to hate hospitals," he joked, obviously trying to lighten the mood. "I think they're bad for my health."

Maddie ignored him, choosing to instead stare silently into the dirty ceiling tiles. This was all his fault anyway. If he hadn't distracted her, she would've been able to fend off Spectra and her cat.

Not one to be ignored, Phantom scowled and prodded her with his knee. At the unwanted contact, Maddie's focus snapped to him, her features a mask of furious defeat. "Hey. I know this is kinda personal, but you must be new, huh."

 _Not this again._

She groaned and ran her palm along the length of her face. "I'll say it one last time, Phantom. I. Am. Not. A. Ghost."

Phantom frowned, unwilling to drop the subject. He threw his hands up in complacency, wincing only slightly when he jostled his injured arm. "Hey hey. Don't worry. I get it. I'm new too," he slurred. "Just hear me out."

 _Great. What does he want now?_

Heaving a defeated sigh, Maddie lolled her head to face in his direction, but remained silent.

Phantom blinked slowly at her, his body swaying in drunken form against a current only knownst to him. His finger jabbed uncoordinatedly in her direction. "You can do it."

 _Do what?_

Her puzzlement must have been obvious if Phantom noticed it. "I mean…" he nervously ran his fingers through his hair, slicking back his white bangs with sweat. "You could, y'know…" he looked helplessly at her with owlish green eyes. "Turn intangible."

Maddie barked a short, self-deprecating laugh. "You're joking, right?" Tears threatened to sting her eyes again as frustration ate away at the last of her self confidence. "I'm not a ghost, Phantom."

The ghost yawned and rubbed his eyes, stopping only to press his palm to his head again. He'd been doing that a lot lately. Maddie found herself wondering if ghosts really could get headaches or if Phantom only thought he had a headache.

 _Can I get a headache? Or do I only think I can get a headache?_

Phantom leveled her a sad albeit inebriated look. The lip of his sleeve had become the victim of harsh fidgeting, his fingers twisting and untwisting the rubbery hem with a vicious ferocity. "I uh- I'm sorry. I don't usually… do this." He let loose a stout, humorless laugh. "I'm really actually terrible at this. I apoloh- apola- apologize."

His drunken speech butchered the word apologize, but it still sounded well meaning enough. The friendly demeanor and positivity served as a beacon of hope for Maddie where all else seemed bleak.

 _Am I really a ghost?_

Just the thought itself was hideously depressing. All signs seemed to point that way, though. Even Phantom, as clueless as he currently was, seemed convinced of it.

"You don't have to," Phantom continued, eyes closed with the beginnings of sleep. "We can wait… drug has to wear off some time." He yawned heavily and laid down on his side facing her. 'It'll be just like a sleepover."

Against all odds, that comment struck Maddie as particularly funny. "The world's most unpleasant sleepover," she amended, voice colored with a dark humour. Perhaps Phantom's quirks were beginning to rub off on her.

Phantom snickered weakly. "We can do each other's hair and talk about guys if you want."

This earned a snort from Maddie, and Phantom smiled groggily into the crook of his arm. He was quickly falling asleep, the soporific effects of whatever vile poison he had been injected with making it that much more difficult to stay within the realm of consciousness. His breathing quieted and slowed into a gentle rhythm.

Against her will, Maddie suddenly felt abandoned and alone. Without Phantom's constant interactions, she had nothing to distract herself from her morbid and depressed thoughts. She lifted herself from the dirty floor and grimaced at the filth that had collected on her clothing.

 _What I wouldn't do for a hot shower right now._

She flexed her hand in front of her, marveling in morbid fascination at the distinct coloration. It was interesting, really, now that she was observing it for the first time without fear, how vividly orange her clothes had become. It was bright and lively, completely at odds with the ghostly nature of death.

 _Not dead. I'm not dead, so I can't be a ghost._

But if she wasn't a ghost, then what was she? She looked like a ghost. Phantom reacted to her as though she was a ghost, but that just didn't sit well in her gut.

 _If I was a ghost, then I could just walk right through that door like it was nothing._

That door. Maddie didn't know it was possible to harbor such a hatred for an inanimate object, but she was really _really_ starting to dislike how well constructed it was. Compared to the rest of the building, this one infuriating door was the only thing that had been recently serviced.

In a fit of unrestrained resentment, she bared her teeth at the accursed object and spat colorful insults. As her fury grew, so did her aura. Where it was normally quite dull, it had now flared up and sparked with electric intensity. Cold began to permeate her body with sharp pins and needles.

Maddie yelped and jumped upright from her seated position at the sudden and strange sensation, but it had already gone as quickly as it had come. Her aura fizzled out, returning to its idle ghostly glow, no longer spitting forks of spectral lightning. Warmth replaced the strange, bladed cold feeling that lanced across her skin.

Her eyes wandered over to Phantom. Whatever that was, it felt extremely similar to his intangibility. Though, maybe hers was stronger she supposed.

Speaking of, he seemed completely unaware of her delima, sleeping as soundly as the dead.

 _Wish I could sleep like that._

"Aaaaagh," she shouted, aggravation getting the best of her. "This makes no sense!" Her hand flew to the clip that normally housed her utility belt, and she clicked the small mechanism repeatedly. It was a bad habit, one that annoyed Jack often enough that he dubbed it "The Mad Mads." Everytime she started doing it, he'd pester her and force her to take a break from her work.

Of course, he wasn't here to point it out now, and that only served to make her feel worse. Funny how its the small, seemingly annoying things that can make you miss someone the most.

She sat back down, back leaned against her newest mortal enemy, the ridiculously solid and uncooperative metal doors that were currently serving as the sole obstacle to her escape. She stared at her only source of company and, strangely enough, she couldn't find it in herself to hate him like she did before.

Not to say that she trusted him. Oh heavens no. That was still too far fetched. To trust a ghost was to flirt with death (no pun intended). But, she did feel like she understood him a little bit more.

He said he was new. By that, she could only assume that he meant that he only recently died. Perhaps it was his status as a new ghost that drove him to align himself with the living? The theory seemed sound enough, and Maddie could easily see herself doing the same if she were in his situation.

Too bad he's already dead. With a personality as strong as his, he must have been dear to his parents.

Phantom chose this time to shift and mumble in his sleep. His white hair marred with the filth that the melting snow carried across the floor.

Then, Maddie saw something she never expected to see. Nor did she think she was supposed to.

Phantom suddenly convulsed, his face contorted with withheld pain and discomfort. His aura flared, but strangely it brought no static charge with it. It gathered around his midsection, sputtering and glitchy, before it separated itself from his body entirely, forming a warbly white ring about his abdomen.

The ring didn't last long, though, before it petered out into nothing with a rather disappointing fit of sparks.

Maddie blinked her eyes, willing away the spots of color that had been burned into her vision. That… that… that was the same thing that had been happening to her for the past few days. It wasn't painful, though. Just weird and uncomfortable.

Phantom coughed roughly, and turned on his stomach to retch, his blissful time in dreamland coming to a rude and abrupt end. "Ooooooooow," he groaned, pushing himself up from the floor with his good arm.

Maddie subconsciously pressed herself against the cool metal of the twin doors. Phantom was looking increasingly sober. Hopefully, this didn't mean that he'd see her as an enemy now. "Phantom?" she asked, voice hitched in trepidation and suppressed fear.

His eyes locked onto hers the moment she spoke. He looked confused momentarily before crying out in surprise and hurriedly scooting backwards away from her. He gripped his injured arm with such tenacity that his knuckles turned bone white.

"You- you-" he cut himself short, eyebrows drawing together in concentration. He took a few furtive glances at his surroundings, before drawing a long breath and calming down slightly.

Maddie let him have his freak out. Heck, if she were him, she'd probably explode again, so she figured that his little startle was completely excusable in light of the current situation.

His eyes, wide with panic, watched her every movement with hawk-like attention. Maddie noted how they were no longer as dilated as much as they were. She wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing yet, though.

Calmly, she raised her hands in a show of placid composure, trusting that Phantom would quickly take the peace offering. "Phantom?" she asked again. "... I don't know how much you remember…"

He cocked his head questioningly at her, but remained crouched in his guarded pose, mutilated arm clamped tightly to his chest. The muscles in his mouth worked as he inspected their current predicament. "I- you-" he stuttered, "we were captured? You…" Phantom suddenly frowned and rammed his hand into his temple. "You broke me out?"

 _Yes! He remembers!_

Maddie slumped with relief, eternally grateful that the ghost hadn't completely forgotten the previous few hours. Her hands fell to her lap, and she exhaled a breath that she wasn't even aware she was holding.

"You're… not going to attack me?" Maddie winced. Phantom was holding his arm like he was worried it would fall off. Well, actually, it might. That weapon was designed to convert a few trace chemicals that were vital to ectoplasmic functionality into harmless water. Honestly, his arm should have already disintegrated. He must have been hit with a dud shot.

"No!" she quickly shouted, voice far too loud in the empty expanse of the hallway. Phantom drew back immediately, eyes screwed shut and hands thrown out in front of him defensively. She shook her head, calming herself.

 _Don't scare him away. You need him to help you._

"No," she repeated, quieter this time. "I won't hurt you."

Phantom narrowed his eyes at her, inspecting her for sincerity. "You… won't?" He cautiously relaxed his posture, unwinding himself into a more acceptable sitting position. He glanced around himself some more, drinking in the details and mulling over something.

"I'm going to be honest," Phantom started, "I don't remember much, but I do vaguely recall you helping me." He paused, face scrunched with thought. "Did we… both ram ourselves into those doors behind you like a couple of idiots?"

Maddie felt her face split in a smile, relief crashing over her like a wave. "Yeah!" she chuckled a small, tentative laugh. "Yeah, we did."

Phantom followed suit, nervously smiling in response. "Sorry," he rasped, voice cracking with sheepish good humor, "I really did not mean to do that. I really thought we were going to go through. Is your face okay?"

Rubbing her aching nose, Maddie quipped, "It'll be better when we get out of here."

"I totally agree." Phantom nodded eagerly. "This place is horrible. I don't know about you, but I'm ready to go home."

* * *

A/N: Chapter 5 is live!

And the duo is still not free. Maddie really overestimated Phantom's abilities. Sure, he may be strong, but he's been kinda dragged through the mud for a while. He needs a break, Maddie! For goodness sakes. He can't even stand on his own.

Anyhoo, I'd like to thank you all again for the positive response. I'll be honest, this story is more of an experiment than anything, so expect to have varying quality throughout it. Sorry in advance. I still like the story idea, though. Perhaps I'll revamp it when I've gotten better at writing in a few years or so.

To A Vivid Reader:

Thanks for the encouraging review! I'll pay closer attention to story progression and details, so hopefully it won't confuse people anymore.

And to you dear readers, thank you for reading my stories! Your views, favorites, follows, and reviews really help serve to push me forward and to grow as an author.


	6. Chapter 6

Cassiopeia: The Arrogant Queen

Chapter 6

* * *

 _Finally!_

In one smooth motion, Maddie sprung from her place on the ground and closed the distance between her and Phantom. She extended her hands to him, which he graciously accepted and allowed her to pull him to his feet. He was still unsteady, but there was a gleam of determination in his expression that was previously missing.

"Alright, let's do this again." He wrapped his arm around her shoulders for support as they made their way back to the door. His aura flared and then began to flicker like candle light. For a moment, Maddie felt that weird cold not there feeling before Phantom unexpectedly cried out in pain.

His full weight collapsed on her, and his aura grew so bright that even her welding goggles couldn't fully shield her from the flash. Phantom's ring flew back into existence, wavering with spectral energy. Maddie's heart skipped a beat.

"Phantom!" she yelled in concern. His good arm had wound itself tightly around her shoulders as he struggled with whatever was happening. 'What do I do? What do I do?' Maddie's thoughts went into a panicked overdrive before she had the chance to school them.

With visible effort, Phantom forced away the blinding ring and took a few moments to compose himself. He had his eyes shut tight, as though doing so would keep away the ring that hurt him. "Crud," he breathed shakily. "That really hurt." He leaned back onto Maddie, giving her a sheepish smile. "Sorry, I don't think I can phase us… I can barely hold onto this." He gestured vaguely at himself, confusing Maddie a little bit.

 _Hold onto what? I'm the one holding him._

But she chalked it up to the confusion he had been feeling earlier. Like he had said, he was really out of it.

Maddie looked at the door longingly and sighed in resignation. "Don't worry about it." She peeled her focus from the door. "Let's make sure you're okay first." She hiked him up further on her shoulder, cursing her own short stature all the while. "Does that ring happen often?"

His breath hitched, and he pulled his hurt arm back to his chest. "More often than I'd like," he admitted truthfully. "I have gotten better at controlling it, though."

Pursing her lips, Maddie wondered if she would ever get better at controlling hers too. Then, a more troubling thought struck her. Phantom was strong, crazy strong. If it was too painful for him to handle, how would it affect her?

"Does it always hurt?" she blurted, unsure if she really wanted to know the answer. Phantom gave her an odd look. "The ring I mean."

He cocked his head, seemingly puzzled by the question. "No," he answered. "It's not the ring that hurts." He paused as he considered something. "I would be more worried if it didn't show up, I think."

If she hadn't been the sole support under Phantom, she'd have slumped with relief, grateful that she wouldn't have to look forward to a future of random bouts of pain. "Then what is hurting you?"

Phantom snapped his jaw shut with an audible click and suddenly became very interested in the opposite wall. She didn't need his answer, though, since he subconsciously ground his injured arm further into his chest. Maddie winced. She never thought ghosts could feel pain, but now, she was fairly certain Phantom could.

"I don't get it," Phantom started, breaking the awkward silence before Maddie could think about darker outcomes. "I've been pummeled, shot, captured, tortured, etc." Frustration was evident in his tone of voice. "But this one little scrape has been the single worst injury I have ever had." He glared at it as though his own arm was capable of betrayal. "A cut this small should have healed over within minutes."

He was avoiding blaming her for his arm, Maddie realized with a jolt. Phantom was actually worried that he might make her feel guilty if he mentioned it. She shook her head, dispelling the nausea that suddenly gripped her stomach. It was only natural that the only reason Phantom couldn't phase them through the door was because she jumped the gun and shot him with ectoplasmic solvent. Talk about karma.

Maddie set her jaw stubbornly. If it was her own stupid, reckless actions that got her stuck in this mess, then it would be her own stupid, reckless actions that would get her out. She brought Phantom to rest against the wall and held out her hand expectantly. "Let me see it," she ordered.

The ghost eyed her with moderate distrust. She could almost hear the reasons not to let her examine his arm playing in his mind. Still, against all odds, he trusted her enough to let her look at it.

"I uh-" Phantom broke off, refusing to look in her general direction. "I don't do so well looking at it," he said as he shakily placed his arm in Maddie's outstretched hands. "Makes me feel kinda queasy."

And Maddie understood why. His 'skin' or ghostly equivalent of was burnt and blistered, the extent of which wasn't fully visible since his dark sleeve covered most of his arm. Ectoplasm, green as the ghost zone, slowly leaked from a horrible gash, the flesh of which appeared to almost be cauterized. His pale complexion gave way to a dark patchwork of green, blue, and red bruising that didn't bode well in her mind.

She caught him sneaking a glance and grimacing. "Phantom," she spoke, hoping that her nerves didn't make her sound like she was being mean. "I…," she struggled for words. There was nothing she could do for this wound. Not here anyway. Maybe if she were in the lab… but Jack would surely be against treating him. That, and she didn't really know how to feel about having him in the same house as her husband and children.

He sighed in resignation. "There's nothing you can do, right?"

Maddie stared apologetically at him. "I'm so sorry," she managed to whisper. His arm felt like it was a million degrees, even in the frigid building. She couldn't imagine what it must feel like to have your molecular structure slowly dissolve into water.

He smiled at her, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Its okay. I'll heal eventually."

Maddie swallowed. None of the ghosts they tested that weapon on ever 'healed eventually,' but she gave him an encouraging smile nonetheless, telling herself that she would make this right when she got the chance.

She released his arm, and he snapped it back to his chest as though it were magnetized. Keeping it there served more than one purpose, she noticed. He couldn't easily see it if it was hidden beneath his chin.

"So… about our escape," Phantom drawled, obviously wanting to do anything but dwell on his injury. "I have an idea, but you're not going to like it."

Maddie crossed her arms and took a wary step back. "What exactly does your idea entail?"

He nervously ran his hand through his hair, successfully dislodging some of the various debris that had gathered there. "Look, I know you don't want to hear it, but-"

Maddie knew exactly where this was going. She cut him off with a sharp, "no!"

Phantom shrunk away at her outburst, but continued anyway. "Will you please just listen to me? I actually know what I'm talking about here."

Narrowing her eyes, Maddie huffed quietly, but allowed him to explain.

"I know you don't want to hear it," Phantom repeated, "but you're a ghost." Maddie opened her mouth to protest, but Phantom stopped her short. "Wait, I can prove it." He hiccuped a small burst of slightly iridescent mist. "See?"

Maddie rolled her eyes. Ghost hiccups were hardly proof of anything.

Before she could say as much, Phantom continued. "Ghost sense," he explained. "Happens whenever I detect a new ectoplasmic signature."

The elder woman paused, complaints dying in her throat. That actually made a lot of sense. Explained how he found himself in the middle of every ghost fight, anyway.

"Do you understand?" Phantom was looking at her sympathetically. "The signature I'm sensing is yours."

Even though she had already kind of known deep down that she was no longer human, it still hurt to hear it said with such a devastating finality, and by Phantom no less.

But then that brought up the question of her death. Was she dead? She didn't remember dying, but she supposed that might be common amongst ghosts. It's not like she ever asked any of her specimens how they died. They were all too animalistic to answer anyway.

"You handling this okay?" Phantom's voice broke through her musings. "You've gone quiet again."

Maddie blinked and tried to rub her eyes which only resulted in her smacking her goggles and making the bridge of her nose ache. Stuttering slightly, she lifted her goggles to wipe her face with her less than absorbant sleeve. "I'll be okay," she answered, but she felt less than confident.

 _How could I be so careless?_

Phantom gave her a skeptical look but moved on nonetheless. "It's really not so bad," he said, "look at the brightside."

Maddie leveled him an anguished look. "What brightside?" she asked disparagingly.

"Duh. You're still here." He smiled hesitantly. "Sure beats the alternative. Plus, flying is really fun."

Maddie paused thoughtfully, digesting Phantom's wisdoms. "I guess it is better than just being gone…"

Phantom clapped her on the back good naturedly. "See! Already feeling better. Now let's get out of here, _please_. I'm dying for a cheeseburger." He lurched forward from the wall unsteadily, and Maddie quickly wrapped an arm around him.

"Ever space out?" Phantom asked. "You know, like during a lecture or just before sleep or something. Just, forget about everything around you for a bit?"

Maddie nodded, not quite understanding where this was going.

"Good." The ghost nodded in approval. "Then you're halfway there to intangibility. Trust me, when I first started out, I kept going intangible all the time. I'm a regular space cadet, though. You seem more down to earth."

It was strange having someone tell her that she could just go intangible. Alien really. Made her feel a little bit uncomfortable, but if it was what she needed to do, then she'd do it. "Okay," Maddie drawled, "so all I have to do is zone out for a minute?"

Phantom broke into shallow laughter, cautious of jarring his injuries. "Not quite… It's a touch more complicated than that." His brows knitted in thought. "It's more like spacing out and focusing on one specific thing… you'll know it when you feel it. It's pretty indescribable."

Maddie groaned. Phantom was a terrible teacher. That explanation made no sense.

"Just… give it a shot. Most ghosts just know how to do it. It should come natural…" Phantom gave her shoulder an encouraging squeeze and began walking forward, forcing Maddie along with him. They stopped when they came to the blue metal doors.

Maddie replaced her goggles and readied her game face. This was it. She was going to get out of here if it killed her. But, zoning out while focusing was actually pretty difficult to do… she was so tense, eager to leave. She doubted she could calm down enough to actually do it.

"Breathe," Phantom instructed. His calm voice was like a beacon of positivity. "You can do it."

 _I can do it._

Maddie closed her eyes and pressed her free hand against the cool metal. She could feel its imperfections, the peeling paint. She was glad for her protective gloves; this thing was probably crawling with tetanus.

She shivered slightly, wishing for the cursed barrier to just disappear, to not haunt her anymore. She was tired of it, and if she was going to be quite frank with herself, she hated it. She knew it was childish to hate something as simple as a door, but she couldn't help herself. She absolutely despised this door.

How many times had it thwarted her escape attempts? Three now? Ridiculous. This thing belonged in a scrap yard. No, it deserved worse than that. It was junk. It should be dumped into the mariana trench and crushed like a tin can.

Something cold shifted inside of her chest. It felt vast and empty, and suddenly, everything else felt cold too. Her fingers curled inward, expecting to be blocked by the door, but they weren't. Before she knew it, Phantom was dragging the two of them forward excitedly.

"You did it!" Phantom whooped. "We're out!"

Stunned, Maddie instantly dropped the intangibility, the power hastily retreating back from where it came. Air, real fresh air, greeted her for the first time in what felt like weeks, and manic laughter escaped her.

"I did it!?" She turned to Phantom, grin nearly splitting her face in two.

Phantom, though exhausted, mirrored the expression. "Yeah! You did!" He collapsed on the ground. "Never thought I'd miss dirt." He frowned slightly, brushing away the bugs that were attracted to Maddie's aura. "Definitely didn't miss the bugs, though."

Maddie chuckled to herself, immensely relieved to be free of that awful wing of the hospital. The courtyard was infinitely better. It was open air with a small cobblestone garden in the middle. A statue of what was at one time probably a very nice looking angel resided in the center.

Phantom sat up and looked around too. "Don't know about you, but this place gives me the serious creeps. Let's get a move on."

Maddie nodded in agreement and picked Phantom back up from the ground. He hissed a little bit when his arm bumped her, but otherwise shouldered the pain gracefully. They both left through an iron gate that had been, thankfully, left ajar for some reason or other.

They followed an old road, the asphalt of which had broken into a million chunks and acted more like a tripping hazard than anything actually navigable. Thick, woody, and occasionally spiney weeds grew from the cracks, making their trek that much more difficult.

Along the way, Phantom just kept getting worse, occasionally fainting and falling to the ground in a heap of limbs. It was worrisome, actually. Maddie had never seen a ghost display such behavior, and she wondered what it might mean for him. She hoped that it was just exhaustion that was causing it, but her gut kept telling her it was the poison in his arm.

After he fell for like the fifth time, she eventually resolved to just start carrying him bridal style. He was heavier than any ghost she had ever seen, but that didn't mean that he was too heavy to carry. He was, actually, about the weight of a human his size, and he was, thankfully, scrawny enough to not pose that much of an issue. She had a suspicion that if he was lucid enough to realize he was being carried, that he'd protest it with every bit of strength he had left, and that thought was enough to keep her entertained for the time being.

But that isn't to say that she too wasn't tired. In fact, she felt bone weary. Every muscle in her body was pleading with her to stop and rest. It was time to face the facts, too. She had no idea where she was, which way was home, nor did she have any food, water, or shelter. As much as she needed to get home, she needed basic survival first. Which, unfortunately, meant that she should stop and gather resources before nightfall.

She looked down at Phantom who was currently completely limp in her arms, wondering if he needed food and water too. If he felt anything like she did, then probably so. She inwardly groaned at the work she still had ahead of her.

As luck would have it, she spotted a fairly shady tree on the other side of a running stream. It was overgrown and gnarled, but would serve its purpose well enough. She stooped low and delicately laid Phantom under the tree atop a bed of leaf litter. She debated having him lean on the trunk for support, but soon found that his head lolled forward at a disturbing angle, so she laid him flat instead thinking that it would be more comfortable.

Watching the spectre in front of her sleep, she sighed, again feeling a bought of jealousy. Phantom didn't know how easy he got it. He looked human, acted human, and he was about to be cared for by her, a ghost hunter. She stifled a depreciating laugh. Jazz would have a field day if she only knew what troubling thoughts were sifting through her mind.

Of course… she could just leave him. He was a ghost, after all. And a terribly dangerous one at that. She could leave him behind, go home, and forget this ever happened.

Her mood soured even more. No… she couldn't do that. Just because she was a ghost now didn't mean she had to act self centered like one. Anyway, she had a difficult time picturing Phantom leaving her behind if she ever needed help. There was something almost pure about him. Untainted. Something that had her more maternal side razzed like a live wire.

Slapping herself lightly, Maddie blushed and shook herself. Phantom was a ghost, and she was a ghost. They were both monsters of the strictly paranormal kind. Such good intentions would only put her in harm's way.

She exhaled a groan of frustration and hugged herself. With Phantom gone, she really didn't have anyone to distract her from her morbid thoughts. It was sad, depressing, terrifying, and exhilarating all at the same time. Emotions bombarded her, and even in the quiet setting, she found herself overcome with sensory overload.

 _Focus, Madds. You're almost out of the woods._

She turned and eyed her next target. The stream that happily bubbled not a hundred feet away. She could see cat tails and fish, easy food supplies if handled properly, and she was an outdoorsman by hobby.

Smirking, she traipsed down the slope towards the winding waters, forcibly pushing all saddening thoughts from her mind.

 _I can deal with it later. Food first._

She hastily began digging a deep hole in the silt directly adjacent from a still spot in the water: a trap for wayward creatures foolish enough to seek shelter there. She covered it with sticks and dead foliage, leaving only a small opening at the lip of the stream.

 _Perfect._

She appraised her work quickly, for the longer she stayed, the less time the trap would have to operate. She headed downstream and made two more traps should the first one fail. When she finished, she was very muddy, wet, and cold, but also very proud. It was rare that she got to display her more unconventional talents, and it felt good to exercise them.

She made her way back to Phantom to start a fire. The sun was past its midway point, and the afternoon wind started to blow. Fire was becoming a necessity to stay warm.

When she arrived, she was happy to see that Phantom had stayed right where she had left him. The only thing that had moved was his arm, and that was only because he pulled it back onto his chest. His chest, by the way, appeared to finally be healing over, a triumph where his arm was lacking. Light snores drifted from the teenager's lips. He looked almost peaceful.

Maddie smiled.

 _Just you wait until you see what I can do. Just because I can't freeze an entire building doesn't mean I'm completely useless._

She brushed together some dead leaves and crushed them till they were almost a powder. Then, she found a piece of dead, peeling bark and set it on the ground, letting her tinder rest on top of it. Then came the difficult part. Actually getting a spark…

 _I always hated starting fires… Should have brought those darn matches with me._

Grabbing what looked like a good, sturdy, and most importantly dry stick, she resigned herself to the difficult task of fire starting. It could take anywhere between a few minutes and a few hours. It all really depended on the quality of her materials… She just hoped she was able to gather the proper tools.

Her arms ached with the repeated action of twirling the stick, but at least the activity helped to warm herself up, though. As always, the first signs of smoke began just when she was doubting a fire would ever light.

She sucked in a breath and held it. If she lost her fire now because she accidently blew away the heat, she'd die of embarrassment.

And as though the fire could hear her internal pleas, a small coal burned red with heat within the nest of tinder. She cradled it as though it were a miracle, softly blowing necessary oxygen into her newest creation. For a heartstopping second, it did nothing but smoke before the first flame licked into existence.

She nearly jumped with joy. _Nearly._ Instead, she hastily began to lay larger and larger fuel sources onto the fire, the flames gradually becoming stronger as she did so until she had a right proper campfire roaring.

 _Finally!_

She fell backwards onto the grass, kicking up a small cloud of dirt. Now all she had to do was check her traps before dark and dig a small water hole. She grinned triumphantly. Nothing could defeat her if she put her mind up to it. Not even evil, sadistic ghosts with a penchant for kidnapping.

 _But I can't just leave a fire unattended. That's just asking for trouble._

There really was no way around it. She had to wake up Phantom. Hopefully he had enough time to recover. He should probably have a drink of water, too, if he needed it. To be honest, she wasn't even entirely sure if she needed it… but Spetra had seemed convinced that she needed to drink, so she supposed she probably did.

 _Why are ghost needs so confusing?_

She hovered over Phantom, suddenly feeling kinda shy. He looked like he really needed the sleep… and she hated that she had to wake him.

She was just about to shake his shoulder, when his aura went from nothing to blindingly bright. It pulsated momentarily before collapsing around his midsection, forming a neat, clean ring that clipped through the ground. Phantom didn't stir, the ring only hovering over his waist like some sort of eerie hoola hoop.

Maddie paused, watching the spectacle through squinted, analytical eyes.

 _What the heck is that? Why does it keep happening against his will? Why does his arm hurt worse when the ring appears? Why do I have one too? Is it the same thing as his? Do all ghosts do this or only the new ghosts?_

It wavered and fizzled out in a disappointing haze of fireworks.

 _What would happen if they actually transformed him like they do with me?_

She pursed her lips in concentration before deciding that survival was the priority, not curiosity. She shook his shoulder, making him groan and complain. Something about it not being a school day? Maddie shook off the familiar nature of the interaction. Her son did this every time she tried to wake him regardless of whether or not it was a school day.

Ignoring his protests, she shook his shoulder again and again until he sat up. His eyes were still closed, and he looked agitated. "For god sakes, Mom! It's Saturday!"

Maddie snorted. Was this what it was like to wake up Phantom when he was still alive? His parents must sorely miss him. He had quite the personality about him. "Phantom," she jeered goodnaturedly, "it's me."

Alerted by the unfamiliar voice, Phantom immediately sat at attention, scanning the area before groaning in resignation. "I hate camping," he mumbled.

Maddie frowned. Camping wasn't that bad. It was actually kinda fun. As much as her son would deny it, they had both had a good time on their little family bonding trip. "Camping's not so bad," Maddie argued, hoping to raise his moral. If anything, moral was one of the most important things to support when in survival situations.

"Says the person with two working arms," Phantom grumbled. He was slowly coming to, blinking the sleep from his eyes and stretching as far as he could. "Hey! My chest is better!" he suddenly exclaimed. "For a second there, I was actually worried." He pounded it with his good fist, looking actually pretty happy considering his situation.

Maddie rolled her eyes. He sure came around quickly. "Look," she said in a more serious tone. They needed to move on if they were going to get food and water before nightfall. "I set some traps by the stream, but I can't leave the fire unattended. Think you can handle it?"

Phantom gave her an odd look. "Handle it? I'm fifteen. I think I'm more than qualified to watch a campfire." He tossed a twig into it as if to prove a point.

Maddie laughed at his bravado. Apparently he kept his teenage pride after death. She was still worried, though. No matter how tough he acted, she knew how hurt he was. She was, after all, the person who invented the weapon that had injured him so grievously. "Okay. I won't be long, I promise."

She stood up, brushing the dust and dirt from her suit, and made her way back down the slope. "Let me know if you find a cheeseburger in one of your traps!" Phantom shouted after her. "I'll know if you keep them all for yourself!"

Maddie turned around and gave him a double thumbs up to which he smiled at. "Keep that fire lit, and I'll even give you any sides of chili fries I catch!"

Phantom whooped excitedly, giving her a mock solute. "Yes sir!" he shouted. She could feel him watch her leave, but she didn't find it creepy like she would have a few days ago. Phantom's childlike nature was actually kind of endearing.

* * *

A/N: They finally escaped! Yay! I wonder if they'll make through the night unscathed...

Invader Johnny: You review so quickly on this story! Wow, and thank you for your support! You're great.

Mohr or Less: Let me explain the title... and be prepared for how scattered my brain processes can be (I apologize ahead of time for subjecting you to my clutter of spaghetti thoughts)... So, Cassiopeia is a queen that in mythology was very stuck up, self-centered, arrogant, and obsessed with vanity. Her daughter, Andromeda, was captured and tortured because her mother made very forward statements about Poseidon's own daughter. Poseidon imprisoned Andromeda and cursed her to be attacked by a ferocious monster every night. On top of this, Cassiopeia is one of about 50 of the North American constellations in the sky. This, combined with a few other things that I'll leave out for spoiler reasons (PM me if you really want to know), seemed to really fit Maddie's description. She's stuck up, won't listen to reason, and obsessive. Her son is forced to face the folly of her ways every night. Also, since Cassiopeia is a constellation, and in this story Maddie is a ghost, they both fit in as celestial/heavenly bodies. Maybe the title is too hard core for the story? I don't know. I just liked it. Thought the old mythology tale fit the story rather closely.

Also, I don't have a drawing of Maddie, but I will do my best to describe her current appearance here. Her hazmat suit is an updated version of the one from the cartoon. Its one flat color, the only differences being her black utility belt, some compartment pockets on her thighs (mostly to hold a cellphone and the occasional snack), and a hidden half-inch long surgical blade in her right boot that may or may not come into play some time in the near future. While human, her suit is the normal teal color that we all know and love, but while ghost, her suit is a bright orange not too dissimilar to Jack's suit. Unlike Danny, her suit is not a part of her ghost half and will not heal itself. She could, theoretically, play dress up with her ghost half and give herself a cool ghost costume like how Vlad did (he certainly didn't where that god awful cape when he was face blasted by an errant protoportal), but I don't see her being comfortable enough to do that anytime soon, so she's stuck with her ghostly hazmat suit for the moment.

To all of you who read, favorite, follow, and review, thank you! You don't know how encouraging you are. It makes my day to see people enjoy my work.


	7. Chapter 7

Cassiopeia: The Arrogant Queen

Chapter 7

* * *

Quick Warning: Small amounts of well deserved dirty wordies. Sorry, but I honestly couldn't picture dialogue turning out any other way when interfacing with a ticked off fifteen year-old. I mean, by the time I was sixteen, curses were an art form and my mouth was the canvas.

* * *

"You can't be serious…" Danny eyed the squirming creatures that the orange ghost had so happily gathered. "I drank out of your nasty mud hole, and now you want to feed me frogs and worms…"

The ghost rolled her eyes and gave an irritated click of her tongue. "Keep complaining and you won't get dinner." He groaned in frustration, but before he could give her any witty rebuttals, she quickly interrupted him. "Get that big stick over there, and dig a small hole in the fire."

"Aye aye," he mumbled, making a show of kicking some loose dirt and grass before eventually meandering back to the campfire, stick in tow. As he dug, the ghost gave him the occasional comment about camping and fire-keeping. Things along the lines of 'don't do that,' 'be careful, the fire is hot (duh),' and 'can you hurry it up?'

Finally, when the hole was dug to perfection, the ghost had him line the bottom with a few loose river stones... carefully. Seriously, all she could do was emphasize safety. She kept worrying her lip and coaching his arms around the licking flames as though he had never experienced the sensation of heat before. It was honestly quite annoying, but he put up with it. Her worrying over him was infinitely better than her shooting at him.

"I really can't believe we're about to do this," Danny complained once more, but his stomach, rebellious as ever, loudly disagreed with a growl of its own. The ghost dumped her armful of river creatures into the fire, the moisture of their collective bodies immediately sizzling as it evaporated into steam. Danny's face was a mask of disgust. "I'll reiterate. I really _really_ cannot believe we're doing this."

The ghost watched with a stony expression. "Be sure to eat this. You wouldn't want their lives to go to waste."

"We're doomed," Danny stated matter of factly. "We're gonna die of some obscure frog/worm disease."

"Or maybe, you could stop complaining for two seconds and actually appreciate the work I've done for you?" Danny subconsciously straightened at the change in tone. For some reason, he felt like he was being reprimanded by a parent. "I carried you this far, set traps, started a fire, and dug a well! The least you could do is say thank you."

Danny blinked at her, astonished at the level of biting ferocity in her tone and diction. It wasn't cold and raging like it had been when she shot him, but it was still there, burning behind her good intentions.

He raised his good arm in a show of submission. "You're right. I'm sorry." He sighed, relaxing his hand and allowing it run down the length of this face. "I'm just, a little on edge is all. And it's only my luck that I'm stuck roughing it in the woods with a handicap again. My last camping trip was terrible, but my Mom and I pulled through somehow." He flashed her a reassuring albeit restrained and cautious smile, "I think we're tough enough to get through this, too."

The ghost squinted at him, judging his words and their sincerity. Then, after some internal deliberation, she returned her attention to their cooking meal, shaking her head. "I can't believe I'm here doing this with you of all ghosts. Get the food out. Its done."

Danny smiled wider, happy to have made some positive progress. "Yes ma'am."

"And don't call me ma'am. How old do I look?"

"Yes ma'am- I mean yes sir?"

She pinched her nose in irritation. "Just get the food."

"Yes ma'am!" Ignoring the indignit whine of frustration coming from his camping partner, he broke the poker stick in two, laying the pieces down to form a border of sorts leading to the center of the campfire where the meat was quickly becoming charcoal.

He clapped his hands excitedly, winced when he forgot about his injury, and summoned a bolt of ice which smothered the fire between the two sticks. That way, the majority of the campfire was still burning happily away, but he could get at the food without melting his suit to his skin.

Grub successfully retrieved with minimal finger burning, he split the portions with the strange ghost woman and took a seat next to her, watching the fire flicker in front of him. "Okay Fenton. Just don't think about it. You're not eating worms. You're eating… something else…" he broke off his quiet mumble to inspect his portion. Unsurprisingly, it was disgusting to look at.

He glanced to his side and saw that the ghost was doing something similar, psyching herself up before decidedly cramming a handful of crispy critters in her mouth at once. "Wow! This tastes great! You should try it!"

"Really?!" Danny rotated the food in his hand. He was hungry. "If you say so…" Counting to three, he shoved his meal into his mouth wishing that his other hand was functional enough to hold his nose. He chewed a couple of times, halfway expecting some amazing flavor. And boy did an amazing flavor come. An amazingly horrible flavor that is.

He nearly wretched. It tasted like how pond scum smelled. Not to mention that the added crunch of the frogs' tiny bones made his stomach do rolling flips. It took a large amount of strength and self restraint to swallow his first bite. He looked at his hand. Two more bites to go.

The ghost was quietly munching away beside him. Though her eyes looked a little bit watery, there was a particularly impish grin plastering her features. She lied on purpose.

Pouting, Danny finished the meal as quickly as he could, silently hoping that it would be the last frog dinner he'd ever have to eat. If anything, the worms were a thousand times more palatable.

He stood up, stretched as far as he could, and made for the makeshift watering hole the ghost dug out while he was watching the fire. The taste of mud sounded like heaven after having to endure what he just did. Following footsteps showed that the ghost had a similar idea.

Having drank and washed his hands in the river, he made his way back up the incline and laid down close to the fire, waiting for the ghost to return.

"Thanks," he mumbled. "For helping me. I'm worthless when it comes to this stuff."

The footsteps paused, and Danny opened his eyes to find the ghost hunched over him, face calculative. "Yes, you are," the ghost resolved. She plopped down beside his head, knees pulled to her chest as she watched the fire. "You're nothing like I thought you were. I'm sorry."

He studied her, surprised at how deep the apology sounded. Her face was pinched with some indiscernible emotion, guilt probably… considering the current state of his arm and all. "It's okay. I get that a lot actually. I used to think the same thing about ghosts before- well, this happened to me." He brought his hand up and did a sweeping motion across his body. "Being a ghost is kind of an eye opener."

She made a thoughtful hum of agreement, tossing a handful of the local vegetation into the fire and watched the leaves curl up and die.

"So much happened to me, I could hardly keep up," Danny continued. "It was such a jarring transition. I hope yours goes better than mine did." He let the words sink in a little bit, taking a moment to consider the sentiment himself. So much went wrong. He could have stopped so many misunderstandings if he had just done things right the first time. "You can't let your past mistakes define you," he told himself. "There is always a way to make things right. You just have to look for it."

She slumped, some invisible tension draining from her body. "Thanks," she whispered. Her eyes fell on his arm which he kept stationed over his chest. "I don't deserve your trust, but thanks anyway."

To this, Danny chuckled. "My friends tell me that I'm too soft. I'm just glad that you're not the 'shoot first, ask questions never' type. I have the hardest time making friends with those. At least you gave me a chance after shooting me, haha!"

At the mention of being shot, the ghost clammed up and pulled her knees closer.

"Uhmm-" His mind backpedeled. Too much, too soon. Too much, too soon. Nice job bringing up the shooting, idiot. Say something calming!

But he didn't have to break the silence. The ghost huffed and unwound herself a bit, somehow finding the strength to shake some proverbial weight from her shoulders. "You really do have a bad rep don't you."

Oh no. She had walked into it. The smart-ass inside of him bubbled to the surface, and a smirk pulled at the side of his lips. "I don't mean to brag," he began in the most ostentatious accent he could muster, "but I've got the worst reputation on Earth! Pariah Dark only wishes he could get the kind of media I can!" He examined his nails in mock vanity before pinching his fingers together, pressing them to his lips, and blowing a kiss. "Who needs a publicist when you're as good looking as I am?"

The ghost smiled a little at the playful banter, but chose not to comment. Instead she laid in the cool grass, apparently exhausted.

"Yeah, we should sleep," Danny agreed to the silent proposal. He curled up as close as he dared to the fire and drifted off.

* * *

Danny found himself on his side, ear pressed to the dirt when he was awoken by some sort of distant rumbling sound. He sat up quickly, but couldn't hear it again, so he returned his ear to the ground. Sure enough, something was closing in on them. A car maybe?

He tried looking around, but in the middle of the night, the light of the fire had died becoming nothing but smoldering coals. He couldn't see the orange ghost, but he could hear her breathing softly somewhere to his left.

Tree cover obscured them from the dilapidated road, but just to be sure, he smothered what was left of the burning coals. At this time of night, the only things looking for him were trouble, trouble, more trouble, and some of trouble's friends.

Just as he began calculating some escape plans, the distant rumble stopped. Or maybe it went away? He crouched to the dirt again, listening, but heard silence.

He looked back at the hospital behind him. Maybe someone owns that place? The locks at least were new enough to be functional.

"Okay. I'm officially freaked. We need to get a move on." He spoke to himself as he began feeling around the dirt for his company, all the while praying that he wouldn't accidently touch anything private. He'd made it thus far. It'd be a real shame if he was killed now.

His hand brushed against some rubbery material, and he pulled back on instinct. "Okay. Found her." Then he reached out again trying to feel for the rest of her body. "Please don't let me grab her boob. Please don't let me grab her boob. Aha!" His hand curled around a bony protrusion that was most definitely a shoulder and not a boob.

He shook it softly, causing the ghost to stir. Judging by the low, threatening growl, she was unhappy to have her sleep disturbed and about to have quite the disruptive outburst. "Shh!" Foolishly, he put his hand over her mouth in an attempt to remain hidden, but the ghost had other plans.

With a guttural shriek, she kicked and swept his legs out from underneath his body causing him to collapse. Somehow, before he could even hit the ground, she was already up and had him pinned face down in the dirt.

It happened so quick, and her aura was strangely gone. He couldn't even feel her with his ghost sense.

"Don't you EVER touch me again, ghost!" she all but yelled, voice carried by the lifeless leaves littering the ground.

Danny opened his mouth to respond, but ended up having to spit out dirt and leaf litter. Why did nature have to be so sordid and gross all the time?

She ground him farther into the loose soil, voice falling into a deadly whisper. "Camping with you is one thing. But do _not_ ever touch me without _my_ permission. Do I make myself clear?"

That's it. This psycho has had enough fun. After having decidedly enough dirt for breakfast, Danny used what little ghost power he had regained after his sleep to phase through her grasp. He rounded, forcing a heel into what he thought might be her back, sending her forward a ways, her flight only stopping when she roughly collided with a tree.

"What the ever- _loving_ FUCK is wrong with you!?" he yelled at the top of his lungs. Weren't they getting along just fine before? Emotions pitched, his ghost half began regaining some of its lost aura causing some strange, alien strobing effect that made it even more difficult to see in the dark of night. "I was trying to warn you! There's someone-"

Fate, or more something more sinister, chose this moment to demonstrate exactly why he should've been quiet. A subtle whirring noise whined somewhere in the shadows behind him, his voice trailing off as he whipped around in a comedic attempt to locate its source.

But he needn't search long before some ballistic weapon smacked him in the head, showering him with some thick, sticky fluid. This was immediately followed by a net and lots and lots of pain. Electricity poured itself into him using the fluid as some sort of sadistic conductor. The net only wrapped tighter the more he struggled against the current.

Needless to say, that got his attention and got it good.

On the bright side, the electricity was putting on quite a light show, briefly illuminating his attacker. Tall, humanoid, but crouched and partially hidden. Probably male given the build, but impossible to really tell who. No ectoplasmic signature. Human.

The shocks lasted less than a second, but the pain lingered long after the last of the jolts had expired. Darkness shrouded the clearing once again, cloaking his assailant with irritating efficiency.

Not that it mattered, because try as he might, he couldn't break free of his imprisonment. He just _had_ to waste the last inkling of his power on that insane witch of a ghost. He didn't revert quite yet, though. He clung to his ghost half out of nothing but sheer spite at this point. Spite, and the fear of the terrible pain that his arm would feel should he fall back into Fenton.

Leaves and grass crunched with muffled footfalls as the stranger approached, the only visual being a black silhouette against an even darker shadow. Even squinting, he could just barely make out the general shape of the man.

The shadow picked up something and probed him from a distance, mumbling something along the lines of "should've been drugged."

Choked on his own spit, Danny spat some tainted ectoplasm from where he accidentally bit his tongue. "Co-ward," he managed to stutter the syllables between breaths. He attempted to wriggle out of his tangle of net and limbs, but couldn't. He was bundled tighter than a vacuum sealed packet of hot dogs.

The man hummed seemingly in agreement, the sound accompanied by some upward movement in the darkness suggesting that he had shrugged his shoulders. Glass tinked as he rummaged through some package he was carrying. Then, Danny felt a pinprick in his arm followed by a cold, throbbing sensation.

Stars streaked in the sky above him as he became less and less aware of his surroundings. Pain dulled. Fear dulled. Everything was blurring together in a mash of vague sensories impossible to distinguish from one another. And then, he was asleep again.

* * *

 _Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud._

"... stop…"

 _Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud._

"Please… quiet…"

 _Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. THUD. THUD. THUD. THUD._

"I said be quiet!" Danny gave the order with as much strength as he could muster, which was practically none, so he did what any rational teenager would do: throw a temper tantrum.

He turned to his side and brought his hand down, intending this to be the first poorly coordinated flail of many, but something brought the motion short. Not one to be discouraged, he attempted to throw his other arm around. Afterall, this was quiet sleeping time. No one, not even ghosts, got away with waking him up.

Searing pain shot through his arm, burning like napalm happily drifting through his veins. Slowly spreading. Always devouring.

 _THUD. THUD. THUD. THUD._

Heart hammering, Danny finally opened his eyes, thrashing with primal instinct only to find that he was safe and sound inside a strange metal room, bound at his wrists and tethered to the wall farthest from the door. His arm was only throbbing where the biting wound was.

Well, safe and sound for now at least. The room, or cage he supposed, consisted of metal bars which gave him a good view of his surroundings, a rare and somewhat gracious privilege that not many kidnappers awarded. This kidnapper, at least, knew how to treat a prisoner with respect.

 _THUD. THUD. THUD. THUD._

Danny breathed and focused on the white tips of his otherwise red shoes, choosing to thank his chosen kidnapper for A.) not binding him to the floor and B.) not binding him to the ceiling. Both of those sucked.

Being stuck to the floor for any period of time would make your back ache unbearably and your legs burn and itch. Being strung up to the ceiling put considerable strain on your shoulders. Being chained to the wall allowed him to choose to either sit or stand, and even allowed him minimal room to stretch his aching joints. Really, it was the most preferable of the three restraining methods.

 _THUD. THUD. THUD. THUD. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud._

His heart rate began to relax the more he convinced himself that everything was _fine._ Emphasis on _fine._ Everything was just peachy. It really really was. Nothing wrong with this situation. Nope!

 _Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. thud thud thud thud_

The racket of his own heartbeat quietly began to meander back into the background noise where it belonged, but as it did so, the room around him fell eerily quiet. No clicking, beeping, ticking machinery. No whooshing air ducts. No ambient building creaks. Nothing but dead silence.

Distracted by this new and rather off putting discovery, Danny scoured his new temporary home for potential weaknesses and/or possible escape routes.

"Weird metal bars: check. Creepy, rattling chain: check. Ghost_proof, creepy, rattling chain? Ahhh!" Danny shook his head violently, warding off the pain that attempting to phase through the chain caused. "Check," he finished begrudgingly.

His eyes roamed some more. "Chains look like the same metal as the walls. Ceiling has the same bars as the walls. Floor is solid." The sole of his shoe scuffed across the metal eliciting that sporty squeak that you hear so often in basketball games. "Can't escape via flight: check." He attempted to dip his foot through the floor, but was only met with more pain again. "Ow! Can't escape via the floor: check."

False cheery mood quickly fading at the bleak prospects of freedom, Danny scowled. Being human made his arm hurt. A lot. Like, a lot a lot. Like, maybe he should've listened to Sam and Tucker and saw a doctor.

… And now that he was paying attention to it, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the wound. It looked oddly exposed in a short sleeve shirt. Skin peeled back exposing burned and blistered flesh. Blackened in the worst places, red in the better ones. Any attempt at actually moving the arm was met with indescribable anguish, so he figured best to just leave it be for now.

Next object of focus: the room surrounding his cage. White, white, and even more white. Not pure clean white like hospital walls, but rather that dingy off white color that plagued school hallways across the country. Surprise, surprise. That color didn't look good at Casper High and it didn't look good here.

Of the few objects that broke the off-white monotony, there were three dark colored doors in the room, an exposed pipe or two, and one lonely spider holed up in the corner above his head. He decided to name the spider Jeffery. Every once in a while, Jeffery would walk around a few inches, so that was some form of entertainment at least.

Some hours passed… or were they minutes? It was hard to tell, but boredom, a very sore arm, and a really bad mood were pushing the limits of Danny's patience. There was only so long he could sit still and wait, and this was it.

"Heeeeey!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. "I've been sitting here for hours and no one has come to take my drink order!" As an extra bit of cantankerous noise making, he struck the bars behind him with the heel of his shoe as hard as he could, eliciting a very satisfying almost gong type of effect. "Come on! I don't have all day!"

That was a lie, obviously. Seeing as he was bound to a ghost proof cell in some weird probably underground basement, he did, in fact, have all day.

He waited a couple of minutes, growing excited when he could hear someone start stomping around above him. "Last I checked, I should get one phone call!" he shouted at the nameless footfalls above him. They stopped, and Danny could swear he heard voices, but that might have just been his mind playing tricks in the silence.

Something tickled his core, and a puff of frosted air burst from his throat. Then, a very irate Spectra phased through the ceiling, missing both an arm and a certain nasally colleague. Somehow, this development didn't worry him as much as it probably should have. He was, afterall, in a ghost proof cage. She couldn't get to him.

Her eyes, red with rage, narrowed considerably. Her body was an inky splotch in the otherwise well lit room. She was way out of her element here, and her posture screamed that she was uncomfortable.

Smirking, Danny leaned back, head softly knocking against the wall as he looked her up and down. "My, you're not looking your cheery self."

"Silence," she fumed, "I will have you be silent if I must tear your tongue out."

The teenager, feeling no more threatened than usual, rolled his eyes. "So…" he drawled, "what's the plan this time? Lose arm number two? Or let me go peacefully?"

The air vibrated with a hum that promised violence. "You are in no position to bargain. You will never leave that cell unaided." Then, her mouth tweaked with the beginnings of a sadistic smile. "In fact, I believe I hold all of the chips since I'll be your assigned caretaker."

Danny was beginning to feel cornered, which was a feeling that he absolutely abhorred. "And why is that?" he wondered darkly. "Lose a bet?"

"Your petty bickerings will not phase me, freak. You will only know what I want you to know." From a closet, she produced a small stool, making it squeal in protest as the legs scraped against the ground.

Danny had to physically stop himself from scoffing. She didn't need to sit. She didn't even have a butt with which to sit, but boy if that didn't stop her from making an annoying spectacle of her apparent elevated comfort.

Her spectral tail coiled and spilled over the edges of the stool as she rested her back against the wall. Those red eyes, as malicious as ever, watched Danny with a level of forced interest that was almost comical. _Almost._ This was quickly developing from a very bad situation to a very very bad situation.

Unable to bear the intense weight of that pupiless stare, he fell back onto his first line of defense: babbling aimlessly. "Well I'm glad I finally get to have some real company. Jeffery here was not one for conversation."

Danny politely paused, waiting for Spectra to take the instinctual cue to carry on the conversation, but she just sat there, stoic and unmoving. Well, as unmoving as she could be. The ghostly body beneath her neck was writhing like a bundle of unsettling, ink-covered tentacles.

"Annnd apparently neither are you," he amended. "Actually, I think I preferred the spider to you. Do you think you could, I don't know, leave?"

Her stare got impossibly more intense and her smile more predatory, but for a split second, her attention was drawn to poor, little Jeff in the corner. It was small, but it was a weakness. Distractibility was something that nearly everyone had, and it was something of a tool to Danny. If he could divert her attention for long enough to uncover some weakness in his current prison and escape, then he could beat her.

And that hope was really all that he needed. He clung to it like he clung to Phantom. There was always a way out. There was always a way.

But Phantom was still too exhausted. Three times now since Spectra's arrival did Danny discretely tug at the cold spot in his chest, and three times did he fail to morph. It was like trying to hold a snowflake in your bare hand. The power and heat of his humanity kept destroying the small nugget of spectral energy he had.

He needed time and rest. And food. And water. And a bathroom…

"I need to pee," Danny stated lamely, mouth curling downwards in a puppy dog pout. "Ms. Spectra, can I go to the bathroom?"

This question caught her off guard. Her posture faltered, and her features contorted into an appalled grimace. "If you think I'll fall for that one-"

"Please!" Danny cut her short with a whine. "It's an _emergency!"_ He pinched his legs together at the knee for added effect. "I don't think I can hold it for much longer."

"Better learn to hold it!" Spectra snapped. "Disgusting hybrid creature. Learn your manners!"

Danny broke eye contact, hanging his head with a sort of overdramatic acceptance. "I understand. Prisoner and all that. I guess it can't be helped."

"No. It can't," Spectra agreed. "You won't get- what are you doing!?"

Danny had turned away, back to her, fiddling with the zipper of his jeans with one hand. "Can't hold it," was all he offered by way of explanation. "I'm sorry you have to see this, Jeffery."

Now, Spectra had a number of options, all of them unsavory. She was far too proud a creature to behold a living human child perform the act of urination. But she was also she also appeared to be supposed to be keeping an eye on him. Not to mention that it probably fell under the caretaker's roll to clean up his refuse.

"Wait! Stop!" But it was too late. The sound of a pittle echoed in the otherwise quiet room, sending Spectra into a shocked and repulsed silence. Unaware of Danny's watching gaze, she squeezed her eyes shut.

Danny smiled a genuinely evil smile. Spectra wasn't the only one around here intelligent enough to play mind games. She was more tense than she usually was. More vulnerable to trickery.

Eventually, the sound ended and the thin lids of liquid black peeled open once again exposing twin cloudy orbs of perfect red. As expected, her attention was immediately drawn to the wet stain just outside the bars of the cage.

"You like it? I tried to write your name." The stain read 'Bitch' in surprisingly good form. "Not too bad for my non-dominant hand, wouldn't you say?" Every featureless feature of Spectra's face practically oozed with indignant outrage. "You don't like it?" Danny tried to sound disappointed as he reviewed his work. "Yeah, I guess it is actually pretty sloppy handwriting."

He could feel it. He was pushing her too far. She was getting very _very_ angry. 'Good,' he thought, 'because I'm angry too.'

"Kinda looks like I tried to write it with a limp noodle." That was it. That little prod there was the last straw that Spectra could take.

She exploded. Literally. Inky ectoplasm ran down every surface of the room as she howled with the raw force of her prideful repugnance. "You disgusting, repulsive creature!" With her face being lost in the cloudy storm of ectoplasm, the voice came disembodied from every corner of the room. "You are nothing but sustenance to me!"

The room's temperature dropped dramatically causing goose bumps to prick along Danny's exposed skin, but her power could not reach him within the cage. This was his opportunity.

"Then come and get it! I'm right here!" One final goad. He'd get her to open the cage… and then what? Eh- he'd figure it out when he got there. He was never one for planning.

Inexplicably, the storm of wrath paused. The air quivered with anticipation and an electric vibration that hesitated. Then, she laughed.

The room echoed with the unexpected, unexplainable mirth from every direction as she slowly pulled herself back together. Ectoplasm gathered like fog at the door to the room, sluggishly reforming some vague, one-armed humanoid shape.

She eyed him, smug as ever. "I see what you're doing." She leaned forward, whispering with a devilish delight. "You think I'll blindly attack you leaving you open for a shot at escape."

Danny pressed himself against the wall and swallowed hard. "Uh… yes?"

She doubled over in laughter. If she had tear ducts, she'd definitely be in tears. "That's what this little act was about!" Eerily, the words were spoken as though they were imposed over her laughter. Two voices, one mouth. Ghosts were weird and creepy.

Straightening up, she dusted herself off haughtily, suddenly sobering at a thought. "Funny. So did he. I wasn't allowed a key your kennel." She ran her fingers over her cheek in an almost remorseful way. "Pity. Your misery tastes the best of any."

"Ew," Danny muttered.

"Ew indeed," Spectra agreed. "You mixed bloods, though repulsive in every way, have a special little spice." She licked her lips and eyed him hungrily. "But then again, prey animals are rarely pleasant creatures."

She began to float upwards towards the ceiling. "Have fun being stuck in a room with nothing but a spider and the stench of your own urine, little badger."

Danny's eyes crossed with confusion. "Wait, little badger?" Then, the realization that he'd be stuck in a room that smelled of pee dawned on him. "Oh! Gross." He looked upward, yelling, "Hey! Get down here and clean this up!" with fruitless results.

At least he was left alone for the time being. He should use this time to recuperate.

* * *

A/N: And I'm back after a hiatus. Sorry guys. I got sucked into a table top RPG that I got overly excited about and poured far more time into than was strictly necessary. Plus, I got a new drawing tablet that's pretty ergonomic that I've been using. Its shocking, really, to find out just how much skill deteriorated over the time that I stopped drawing. I need LOTS of practice. Things that used to come to me easily now take so much thought and effort and _coordination_ oh my god. How did I ever do it.

Double plus, I just got into the How To Train Your Dragon book series. Apparently, I'm a sucker for children's books. Ugh. Sometimes I hate my taste. I mean, how do I go to work, look a bunch of respected 50+ year old engineers in the face, and tell them I'm reading a fictional picture book about Vikings teaching advanced rudery lessons. Impossible. I'd not leave that lab with my dignity intact.

Anyway, enough of my rambles! Begone useless, meandering thoughts! Its time for some thank yous!

Thanks Invader Johnny and MsFrizzle for your constant reviews. They're very helpful and kind. I'd have probably abandoned this story should I not have gotten so many encouraging reviews from you guys! And I'm glad I didn't. I honestly had a lot of fun writing this chapter. The next chapter is proving difficult to write, but I'm sure it'll work out.

And thanks to all the folks who have read thus far. I'll try not to get distracted again, but no promises. I'm a very distractable person, and there's a lot of new and interesting media coming out that keeps stealing my mind. *cough* spyro *cough*


	8. Chapter 8

Cassiopeia

Chapter 8

* * *

Maddie woke up in a lavish bed overflowing with plush pillows and warm, thick blankets. The thread count of the sheets was nothing short of spectacular, and at her bedside sat an innocuous vase of pleasant smelling flowers.

She bolted up, immediately unnerved. This was NOT the woods next to a creepy hospital. How the heck did she get here!?

Gaudy wallpaper, ornate moldings, and decadent oil paintings sneered at her from their perches along the walls. Vibrant, silk carpet decorated the floor. The solid wood claws of her bed nestled in its ravishing surface. The air had a warm, almost burned, manufactured smell wafting from the ventilation system. Though pleasant and welcome, the dramatic change in scenery was certainly not one she was expecting.

Sinking back into the overfilled pillows, Maddie attempted to recount the happenings of the night before, hoping for some clue as to what happened. She remembered falling asleep next to her campfire, being assaulted in her sleep by Phantom, and then being kicked in the back… _hard._

 _Bones snapped. They definitely snapped!_

Panicked, she immediately inspected herself for injury, but found none. Her back didn't hurt. Neither did her head where she suspected she cracked it over the trunk of a tree.

She held her hands in front of her. Human. She looked human again. How long had she looked like this?

"Wha-" was her very intelligent, very dignified response. Did Phantom do this? Did Phantom knock her out and drag her to this… room. Her skin crawled at the implications. This room, whatever it was, was a very clear attempt at gaining her more -ahem- personal affections.

Creeped out, she slithered from the bed that was way too tall to be anything within her price-range and silently padded around the room. Her shoes were missing. Her clothes were stipped to nothing but a silky nightgown that accentuated her features in the most revolting ways. Her hazmat suit, her only form of armor against Phantom, was missing in its entirety.

She passed by a mirror and was only half surprised to find that she had been bathed. She watched her reflection with intensity, a littiny of turbulent emotions berating her from every which way. Her eyes were their usual refreshing purple, her skin its normal, healthy hue if a little pale. Clearly human. Not ghostly in any way.

Even so, she felt as though she was looking at someone she couldn't recognize. Who… or rather what was she? What was happening to her?

But the cogs in her tired mind just weren't ready to spin up quite yet, and her reflection merely blinked it's humanly eyes at her in confusion. Slowly, her focus began to shift from the stranger in the mirror to a new, tantalizing scent: food.

Coffee, bacon, eggs, and bread. The smells swirled about in a symphony of everything she craved. Having gone without food for so long, a proper meal was nothing short of a godsend, and the prospect of coffee was very _very_ inviting.

She began to make her way out the door when she suddenly paused. She couldn't leave the room dressed like this. This gown was just barely legal. If she so much as moved even slightly wrong, then she'd be exposing herself to the world.

But try as she might, there were no proper clothes to be found anywhere.

Confused, and still a bit tired, Maddie returned to the bed, wrapping herself up in the bedding like a human burrito, only debating wearing the sheets like a toga for a split second before rejecting the idea outright. The last time she wore a toga was in college, and that had turned out disastrous. Funny in retrospect, but disastrous all the same.

Some time later, a gentle knock came at the door. It was polite, but unexpected and nearly made Maddie jump three feet out of her own skin.

"Maddie, dear. Are you awake?" Maddie cocked her head, unsure if she was hearing things correctly. That voice definitely belonged to Vlad. "I've made us an most extraordinary meal. You absolutely must join me," he continued.

But… that didn't make any sense. Why… or rather how did he find her?

"I see you need your time. Are you quite well? I have a team of excellent medical staff on hand should you need anything."

Shaking herself out of her surprise, Maddie found the strength to answer. "I- I'm fine, Vlad."

A sigh of relief came from the other side of the door. "That's good to hear, my dear. I must say, you gave me quite the fright. The kind man who found you said you were attacked by a ghost!"

Maddie scrubbed at her head in frustration, humiliated to be found defeated by Phantom of all ghosts… and by some random bystander no less. The press must be eating her family name alive by now. Swallowing her pride a little, she replied, "How much did I miss? What happened?"

"Hmmmm" Maddie could almost picture how the sly, calculative smile stretched around her former friend's smug, weasel face. Really, she hadn't yet forgiven him for the very forward approach on her honor during that very unfortunate camping trip. "Come join me in the dining room, dear. The food is going pitifully cold."

Now, Maddie was a hunter by trade and hobby. She knew bait when she saw it. She'd rather starve than agree to a formal meal with him… especially dressed as she currently was. But the traitorous grumble of her stomach said otherwise.

"Where are my clothes, Vlad?" The sentence was a question, but she spoke it as though she were issuing an order. For Vlad, she'd spare no leeway.

"Cleaners," Vlad answered all too easily, with a cocky, self-assured air of haughtiness. "Is that gown not _satisfactory_?" His tone pitched and rocked with innuendo, the word practically dripping with an uncomfortable and inappropriate hunger.

A growl broke through her lips, short-tempered and snappish. She hadn't the patience to play this game. She wanted clothes… but she needed food. Vlad had her right where he wanted her… or so he thought.

Maddie calmed herself as she began to weigh the odds. If she kept her cool, then she still held the advantage. Afterall, it was Vlad who wanted her, not the other way around. And even things went south, then she had multiple skill sets at her disposal… and as much as she hated to mull on it, she supposed she could also make use of intangibility should the need arise.

If she played her cards right, if she could get herself under control, then she had the advantage.

Worried that her distrust might leak into her tone of voice, she took a short moment to compose herself. She didn't need Vlad to know just how angry was. What she needed was to employ a certain degree of stealth. "I just need a moment. I'll join you in a second."

She smiled a wry, humorless smirk when Vlad eagerly agreed, his footfalls echoing as he made his leave. Normally, she supposed the thought of using ghostly powers over a human to gain the upperhand would be a disgusting act. But right now, under these current circumstances and against this snake of a man, she was almost grateful for the abilities.

Just to be sure Vlad was out of sight, she waited a few extra minutes before exiting the luxurious bedroom. Another large hallway stretched before her, littered with doors and oil paintings. Her bare feet made hushed sounds on the smooth, lacquered wood.

 _There has to be something I can wear in one of these rooms._

And to her luck, she did find something. A large, solid oak door patterned with ornate, spiraling leaves and vines opened into an overly extravagant bathroom. There, she found an overly plush bathrobe, patterned with animal furs and lined with smooth silk. As truly hideous as it was, it did do a rather proper job of concealing her body. It was better than nothing, she supposed, which was practically all that the nightgown covered. Grimacing, she donned the tasteless garment.

Finally clothed, she made her way down the hallway and into the upper level of a front room lobby. Symmetrical staircases wound up the wall on either side in a gaudy show of over-abundance. Grecian statues lined the walls, and hideous paintings of clouds and cherubs were plastered over the ceiling like some sort of uninspired homage to the sistine chapel.

With a hand, strangely free of her usual protective gloves, she ran her fingers along the railing of the stairwell. It was plated with gold leaf. Her fingers left smudges along the smooth surface.

"Maddie dearest!" Vlad yelled from somewhere below her. "I must assert that your breakfast will most definitely be cold now."

Maddie sucked in a harsh breath. "Coulda given me some clothes," she muttered quietly. "This is humiliating."

Back straight, eyes flat and expressionless, she puffed herself up with as much self-important ego as she could. She would _not_ fall prey to this man. She could single-handedly defeat him in unarmed combat if need be. She was strong! Tough! A rock, nay, a monolith!

A stair creaked loudly as she made her way down, alerting Vlad to her presence. When she rounded the corner, she spotted him seated at the end of a remarkably long table. He tried to hide his disappointment in her choice of attire, but the twitch of his eyebrow wasn't subtle enough to go unnoticed.

"Maddie!" Oh, how she loathed the longing way he kept repeating her name. "What… creative choice of dress." He gestured to the seat to his right. "Come, I've prepared your portion already. We've much to discuss."

Maddie eyed the chair at the opposite side of the table with ill-disguised want. It was the proper thing to do. A man would typically seat his guests at the opposite side of the table. The fact that he wanted her right next to him was so uncomfortably obscene.

Patience dwindling, Vlad cocked an eyebrow and patted the seat as though she were a dog. From anyone else, she'd have payed the action no mind. But from him, it just felt slimy.

Ignoring the stirring feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach, she took the seat to his right without so much as a sideward glance. She was here to eat and receive news. Nothing else.

Irritatingly, Vlad took this very obviously closed off expression as an invitation to invade her personal space. The back of his hand rested itself on her forehead, his expression not but a mask of concern.

"Are you sure you're feeling quite alright?" He pushed the subject of her health again.

She brushed the hand from her head and gave him a polite, tight lipped smile. "I'm fine, Vlad. Thank you for the concern. I'd just…" she paused for dramatic emphasis, " _really_ like to know what's going on."

He blinked, giving her his usual fake smile and some small, not quite discrete enough for her tastes, pats on her thigh. "Of course, dear. All in due time. Do, go on and eat your breakfast."

She glared at him, not quite liking the easy-going attitude, but never losing her smile. "Thanks. I'm sure you understand. I'm just so confused. I'd really appreciate any information you could give me."

The tension in his posture melted somewhat when she finally picked up her fork and knife, neatly cutting apart the homemade omelette into square chunks. She jabbed one bit with her fork and ate it. She chewed slowly, relishing the taste of proper food.

"Like it?" Vlad made her so amazingly uneasy. "I normally have my personal chef cook my meals, but for you, I'd thought you might like something made with a little bit of love."

 _Gross!_

Maddie choked. Her fist hammered her chest in a desperate attempt at dislodging the delinquent bit of egg. "Excuse me?" she stuttered.

His eyebrows turned up, the mask of concern morphing slightly to display a subtle increase in annoyance. "I mean to say, when I heard you turned up at the police station with a nasty concussion, I thought you might like something a little more meaningful than a purchased meal when you woke."

She scanned his face. He reeked of deceit, but she had no proof of ill intentions yet other than his over use of her name and the horrid piece of clothing he had chosen for her to wear. Pressing her lips together, she thought hard about her situation as she grabbed her coffee.

"Riddle me this," she spoke calmly, but with an air of righteousness, "how does one such as yourself become privy to police matters?"

Vlad scoffed, laughing lightly as he sipped his lavender scented tea. "Oh please. That's what's got you all riled up?" He punched her arm playfully. "Maddie, my dear, you are not my only friend. I've some colleagues at the station who recognized you from our pictures."

She squinted. That explanation checked out. Now that it was mentioned, she noticed the portraits of her strewn about everywhere. What was more noticeable, however, was the apparent lack of any pictures of Jack.

Ignoring her disgust, or perhaps just not even noticing it, Vlad straightened out in his chair and smoothed the table cloth with nervous attention. "Maddie," his voice had a certain strict and nervous quality to it that immediately grabbed her attention. This wasn't his normal fake pleasantness. This was real. "I have to be honest with you. The police staff pronounced you dead at the scene, but when you arrived at the coroner, you had a pulse again."

Chills ran up and down her spine. Had Phantom killed her? She felt fine right now… "Must have been an idiot, haha! Because I'm clearly not dead." She broke down into nervous laughter which she then promptly drowned with coffee.

Vlad looked at her strangely. "No. You aren't. But I know the man who pronounced you dead. He's not an idiot."

"An honest mistake then!" she answered too quickly. Vlad was getting suspicious. She was going to reveal herself at this rate.

"Hmm. Perhaps." Vlad took an unnervingly long drought of his morning beverage. "When I transported you here for medical attention, my doctors found no evidence that you had ever been injured. Before you left, the officer who performed first aid had noted a large abrasion on your forehead. Your clothes were stained with blood."

Unable to maintain eye contact, Maddie turned to face forward and began stirring more cream into her drink. He had her.

"As I'm sure you noticed, I had my staff bathe and clean you. Your hair, my dear, was matted with blood and dirt. I'd had been suspicious that it might be someone else's, but some more was found on the inside of your clothes rather than outside." He leaned forward so that he would be in her field of vision. "Now riddle me this. How does one such as yourself get away from mortal injury completely unscathed?"

'I don't know!' she screamed internally. "I want to talk to Jack!" she demanded.

At the mere mention of her husband, Vlad closed off. He relaxed in his chair, returning to his initial haughty posture. "I haven't his phone number," he excused.

"Don't worry, I have it memorized," Maddie quipped. She stood from her seat, but her hand was caught before she could leave.

"Maddie. This is serious. We need to talk." There was an alien almost pleading tone to his voice. Vlad was not the one to beg, but this was dangerously close to begging.

Her resolve melted slightly. She still wanted to talk to her husband, but something told her that she should hear Vlad out first.

"Maddie." He was looking up at her with sadness in his eyes. "Please, sit here with me a while longer."

He guided her back to her seat gently and placed the coffee back in her hands. The liquid rippled. She was trembling.

Vlad started with a small, reproachful sigh. "I'm sorry if I seemed accusatory. You must understand, I would never blame you for anything. This is just…" Vlad broke off into a series of incomprehensible stutters before recomposing himself.

"I haven't been completely honest with you yet, Maddie. I had my staff run a number of different vital checks and laboratories. I must say, your blood work came back with... _exceptional_ results."

 _Oh no._

"What did they find?" Maddie heard herself speak, but she was so far away and detached from the world around her. She knew what they found. She just needed to hear it confirmed.

Vlad removed his comforting hand from her shoulder and fiddled with the handle of his mug. "Blood mostly," he answered. "But there were some oddities. Large amounts of copper. No white blood cells. Some unidentifiable mucus. Needless to say we were concerned, but even removed from your body, the test vials filled with your labs kept up some sort of stasis. That is, your blood kept replenishing whatever chemical we took, and destroying whatever chemical we injected. It even regulated its own heat."

Maddie knitted her fingers together, pretending to not understand the implications. "What are your initial thoughts?"

"Why Maddie?" Vlad asked with a hint of hurt in his voice. "Do you not remember those precious years we spent together? We studied the paranormal sciences." His voice lowered almost to a whisper. "I think we both know what this implies."

Maddie felt like the last taut string of tension holding her up straight had snapped at the strain. She doubled over, resting face down on the table hugging her arms to her torso. Why did it have to be people that she didn't like who kept making this discovery. "Ectoplasm," she stated blandly. It was her curse afterall. She might as well acknowledge it.

"My thoughts exactly," Vlad conceded. "Now, I'll ask you again, and I implore you to answer truthfully." Maddie felt his hand rub comforting circles on her back. "Are you feeling quite alright, my dear? You look like you've seen a ghost."

It was small, and in dreadfully bad taste, but it was a joke that Maddie found herself smiling at. Making light of the situation made it just a little bit easier to handle. Dumbly, she was reminded of Phantom attempting to cheer her up on the hospital grounds. Would he really strike her as hard as everyone was making it seem? She felt fine.

Before she knew it, she was tearing up. Everything was confusing and scary. One moment, she thought she was friends with Phantom; the next moment he assaulted her in her sleep. Would she get as violent as he was? Ghosts were predatory in nature. Would anyone be safe from her?

Then, a fear struck her like a lightning bolt from heaven. She gripped Vlad's shoulders pleadingly. "Please! _Please!_ Do not tell Jack."

Vlad pulled back from the embrace, shock evident in his face. "Why Maddie, whatever for? He's your dear husband is he not!?"

Maddie sputtered, brain spinning into overdrive. Jack was her best friend, the love of her life. She could share anything with him.

" _What would Jack think of you?"_ Spectra's voice interrupted her thoughts. _"A strong ghost hunter such as himself would surely hate a thing like you."_ The words poured from somewhere deep and hidden in her mind and heart, repeating like a broken record, sometimes so fast that one thought would overlap the other. _"Don't you see? There is no home for you."_

It hurt unspeakably, almost as though a knife that had been left within her was being twisted by a pair of invisible, clawed hands. Her brain was stuck in an infinite loop. Her heart was racing, plummeting into the pit of her stomach.

 _This isn't like me. What's happening!_

Vlad ran a hand down his neatly trimmed beard in thought. "Though I suppose that could be arranged. If it would make you more comfortable my dear." He wrapped his arms around her shoulders loosely, and she felt herself shutter in revulsion at the contact. Her thoughts, however, began to take new darker and fantastic turns, devising every negative way Jack might react to finding out.

Vlad leaned into her, chin resting on her shoulder. Jack would reject her. He'd see her as nothing more than a taint, an echo of her former self. He'd despise her for having his wife's face, yet he'd be fascinated by the mimicry.

 _Am I a mimicry? Am I actually dead!?_

Hot air brushed against her ear as Vlad whispered to her in a patient tone. "There, there, Maddie." His arms were tightening around her back, constricting in a possessive, predatory fashion. "I'd never turn you away."

 _Jack would._

"I'm not a ghost hunter. You can trust me." Vlad soothed her further, somehow finding the strength to remain remarkably calm given the circumstances. "I'm here for you."

 _This… this is wrong. I'm married._

The repetitive thoughts paused for a moment to make way for a small bubble of rage towards Vlad. He was clearly taking advantage of the situation, probably eating up the attention.

Roughly, she placed her hands between herself and Vlad, prying the lecher away from her body. She was hers and hers only. Her theory was proven when she spotted a look of annoyance cross his face. He should be concerned or worried. Not annoyed. This was _not_ something he should be enjoying.

"I need some time to myself," she declared quietly but sternly. Her voice was choked with sadness, but this was something she felt very strong about. If Vlad so much as even followed her to her room, she'd break him in half.

 _So violent. You're a monster._

Her eyes burned strangely with tears… no. This wasn't tears. This was a different sensation: cold and dry, not wet and itchy. Vlad was staring, mouth unhinged and limp.

 _My eyes. They're glowing._

 _Spectra's mean wrinkled face sneered at her. An open powder box with a dusty old mirror was displayed in her outstretched hand. Behind the lenses of her goggles, Maddie's eyes were as red as Spectra's were. "You might want to control yourself in the future unless you want everyone to know what kind of monster you are."_

She squeezed shut her eyes, one hand keeping grip on Vlad's shoulder to make sure he kept his distance… or maybe it was to make sure he didn't run away. God, she didn't want to be alone in this. But she also didn't want Vlad either.

 _Hideous monster. Be grateful that someone is willing to stand your disfigurement._

Unable to take her own self depreciation, she made a sprint for the stairs, into the hallway, shutting herself in the ornate room Vlad had let her use. There were mirrors everywhere in here, and she was surrounded by three or so of her own face, a lonely council to judge her plight in foreboding silence. Her eyes, mirrored in every direction, shown with a violent red, the skin about her face blotched and wet with tears.

Defeated, she collapsed into bed, exhausted even though it was still before noon. Hugging a pillow, she silently wept for herself, disgusted with her own weakness of mind. "I'm still me. I'm still me. I'm still me." She rocked herself to sleep, mouthing the phrase, hoping that if she said it enough, it would come true. Because, as it was, she was definitely not herself.

* * *

A/N: And we're getting to the meat of the story! Finally...

Thanks for reading thus far. Sorry this chapter is a little shorter than most, but I really liked the thought of ending on this note. Ugh, Vlad is a creep.

Thanks to Invader Johnny for the constant reviews! I'm glad you like it thus far.


	9. Chapter 9

Cassiopeia

Chapter 9

* * *

It was well past sundown now as Maddie waited for the microwave to finish heating her leftover breakfast. The estate was quiet. Vlad had most likely grown tired of waiting up for her and gone to bed.

Behind her was a wall mounted phone. She was pointedly ignoring it. So long as she didn't think about it, think about calling him, she could pretend that everything was normal…

Except it wasn't.

The building around her was unfamiliar, empty, and foreboding in a way that she couldn't necessarily put into words. It was well decorated, equipped with only the highest quality furnishings and appliances. However, for some reason, it didn't feel right.

It didn't feel comfortable.

It didn't feel like home.

 _She missed home._

Frowning at her own reflection, Maddie scrubbed absent-mindedly at her eyes, too exhausted to really feel as upset as she had been before. On the surface, she appeared normal, but she knew all too well the lie that was her humanity. She could feel it, the energy inside of her, coiling like a frozen viper.

The phone was just behind her. She could call Jack. He would know what to do. He could end this suffering…

Finally, the microwave dinged with a strangely perverse quality of the sound had Maddie briefly wondering if it had an honest to god miniature bell seated inside it somewhere before she decided that she actually didn't really care either way.

She pulled the plate out and placed it on the countertop, shaking the heat from her hands. The eggs were burned a little, the new microwave being too strange to operate with any real confidence. Brown and black decorated the edges of the omelette, but Maddie hardly noticed; She was too grateful for the distraction the meal would soon provide.

The kitchen stool whispered against the smooth floor, seemingly at peace with its existence as a mere object. Inhuman. Unfeeling. She sat in its curved surface, focusing on nothing. Thinking made her head hurt. To not hurt, she simply needed to not think...

One bite. Two bites. Three bites. She ate mechanically, struggling to ignore the phone that rested not two feet from her, taunting on its silent perch. Her stomach churned greedily, urging her to continue her silent feast.

Four bites. Five bites. The warmth of the meal was comforting, nestling against the distinct coldness that shifted like the changing tides of an ocean. A stark contrast of life where she could feel her own death. Her mood was slowly lifting, if only for the moment. Food, it seemed, was something she would need in the days to come, and for that she felt a little more normal. A little less freakish.

Her mood paused, her scientific mind unable to remain restrained. She distinctly recalled never feeding any of the test subjects at home… Perhaps she should consider offering daily feedings when she got back home? Going without seemed unnecessarily cruel now that she knew what it felt like.

 _A thing like me doesn't have a home._

The sixth bite fought against her as a sudden cold gripped her with hooked talons. It wasn't her cold. No, not her cold. It was not the cold that she had begrudgingly recognized as her own core. No, this cold, the one seeping from her heart with a blackish, devilish delight, this one was not her.

It felt horrible: alien yet familiar. Her mind, scrambled and disoriented as it was, threw itself into a small fit of confused anxiety, desperate to rid itself of this strange blight. She wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed the goosebumps from her bare skin. Her chest expanded and contracted, forcibly taking in air.

 _Breathe. Just breathe._

Again, her mind wandered back to Phantom's simple instructions and light-hearted meanderings. Though she knew she shouldn't have expected anything different, she couldn't help but feel the deep cut of betrayal. Why would he attack her? Why would he run away once spotted?

 _He's just a ghost. That's why. He could never have the complexity to know empathy._

… _Do I still know empathy?_

She screwed shut her eyes and doubled over. She would not even consider that. She was still herself! Of course she understood empathy. She could still be human.

 _Just… breathe…_

She held herself still, the steady ticking of a distant clock being the only thing that broke the strained silence. Mind clear, she did not allow herself the time to wander about her own predicament. She could save that for later. Right now, she had bigger problems to resolve.

Gradually, the strange pain waned, eventually returning to no more than a cold stone of misery that sat uninvited in the pit of her chest. Maddie shook herself, righting herself in her seat as she regained some of her previous vigor. Her stomach was warm and comfortable, and she was safe. That's what mattered.

She looked around at the beautiful estate that towered with tall ceilings and abundant decor. Then, she looked down at herself in her current awkward apparel and shuffling feet. She didn't belong here. Frowning, she sadly appraised the worth of staying here versus returning to Fenton Works.

 _I need to go home._

Decision made, she faced her next challenge: the phone. She paced over to it, hand hovering just over the receiver.

 _Ten digits. That's all I need to dial._

Inexplicably, the cold stone exploded once again, this time with a vengeance. It seeped malice and doubt, tainting her world with a sort of dreary feeling of complete and utter defeat. She only realized her hand was shaking when felt her nails nick the smooth plastic surface of the phone.

 _What am I doing?!_

Panic bled over rational thought.

 _Jack will hate me! Hunt me!_

She backed away, bumping into a stool and knocking it over. Not that she really took notice. She was far too busy dealing with the turbulent bought of negative emotion that seemingly erupted from nowhere.

 _There is no home for a thing like me!_

Truthfully, honestly, she knew Jack would never reject her. He was a family man at heart, a stalwart monument to acceptance, understanding, and forgiveness. He was her best friend, her husband, and the very person who she could trust to always love her.

 _Wrong! You've seen what he's capable of. You've seen the experiments. You've even taken part in them yourself._

Her hand gripped desperately at the fabric covering her chest, the thundering pulse of her heart palpitating in the heat of a frenzied hysteria. It hurt unspeakably, like a frost burn that had gone far beyond mortal limits, hurting with a pain so real it was almost physical.

 _You are nothing._

And that was that. For whatever reason, she was dead. She had passed, and her time with her loved ones was over. Drawing back even further, she curled up, knees pressing hard into her ribs, face buried in the musty fabric of the robe she had managed to scavenge earlier.

This was still too much. This was far too much. She needed help. She couldn't handle this on her own.

She stayed bundled up on the floor for some time, eyes closed, a grim sort of acceptance and morbidity washing over her with a sickly tenderness. The pain ebbed once again, having won yet another battle.

Brilliant purple, enhanced by the clear sheen of tears, peeked upward at the phone as it stayed seated on its pristine, wall-mounted hook. Perhaps this was a trial best left to another day. She blinked and the moisture that had gathered at the corner of her eyes fell freely to the floor with a small, nearly-mute plip. Perhaps she should take Vlad up on his offer. He seemed willing enough to help, despite her current condition.

She stood, brushed herself off, and gathered her bearings. She wasn't sleepy, and tonight would be a long one if she were to leave herself to her own devices. Dreading what dark corners her mind could wander to, Maddie sought the relief of a distraction. A puzzle? Or a game maybe?

Not much else to do, she began to wander the mansion, seeking any form of available entertainment.

* * *

 _So much pain._

Danny woke up ensnared in a blanket of molten agony. Wrenching his arm back, he pressed it against his chest as hard as he dared, willing away the hurt with as much mental fortitude he could muster. He cursed himself, having fallen asleep in what was clearly a very bad, very dangerous place. He gingerly rubbed the muscles around his wound, frustrated to have rolled over on it in his sleep.

 _Idiot._

He scowled, temper ever increasing. Of course he'd let himself get shot with whatever fun sparky gun of imminent death his parents invented. Of course he'd get captured by Spectra. Of course he just _had_ to try to wake up that other insane, bipolar psycho of a ghost.

 _Should've just snuck away myself._

Growling threats to himself, he felt around for Phantom, hoping that at least this nap, however suicidal it was, would prove fruitful. With all the bad luck he was having, something was bound to turn up good.

Sure enough, his core had reclaimed some of its spent power, happily sparking to life at his command. Aura flat and unwavering, Danny Phantom watched in morbid fascination as the wound on his arm strained to stitch itself back together. The skin knotted and kinked, and the agony he had felt in human form faded to little more than an ache in ghost form.

 _Okay. I'm going to call that progress._

Not to say that it was healed, but it was at least trying to heal and that was worlds better than what it had been doing.

 _Alright, and now I think it's time to leave._

He gently pushed himself from the ground with the ball of his toes, hovering silently in the cage he was currently stuck in. Above him, Jeffery's web had been evacuated, probably scared away by Spectra's temper tantrum.

For the second time, he studied his restraint with renewed clarity. With Phantom's powers finally engulfing him in a comfortable fortress of invulnerability, Danny felt empowered, strong, capable of success.

The clamp that bound his wrists appeared seamless, two gleaming rings of solid metal with no clear way to open them. Frowning, he pulled a glove off with his teeth and ran his thumb nail over the surface, searching for any grooves that might prove to be a potential weakness.

 _Got it!_

He congratulated himself on his find as he traced a small opening in the ring. That was plenty.

 _Okay. How to open it…_

Foolishly, he attempted just prying at the device with brute strength, but all that awarded him was sore wrists and a renewed bought of aches in his injured arm. Then, he considered firing ectoblasts from his eyes, but got too worried that he might hit himself and called that plan off.

 _I'll need some sort of tool. I can't get it off with my own strength._

He scanned the empty room, not really expecting to find anything. Walls, walls, more walls, a ceiling, the floor, a few doors… PIPE!

Pipes carry water! He could use water! Water was sooo much easier to freeze than just general humidity. He wouldn't even have to waste hoards of energy doing it.

Except… the pipe was outside the boundary of his cage, and as far as he knew, the cage acted as some sort of filter for ghost energy. Experimentally, he attempted a shot at it, but the bolt of ectoplasm simply disintegrated at the border of his current dwelling.

 _Great… next time get excited over something you can actually use, idiot._

Scowl returning, he glared at the bars impeding his progress… if only he wasn't a ghost, then he could reach the pipe.

Oh. _Ohhhhhhh._

Feeling more than a little dumb, he swapped back to his human form, a dull thud ringing out as gravity reclaimed him. His arm picked back up where it left off, sending vicious waves of searing pain up and into his shoulder. Stifling a cry of agony, he cautiously stuck his good arm through the bars, half expecting some sort of weird booby-trap.

Nothing.

His hand was free on the other side, if a little impeded by the oversized ring of the cuff. Now, all he had to do was bust the pipe and get the water. Easy-peasy.

He summoned Phantom again, the white light swallowing all of him but the arm outside the cage. His bare hand rested on the other side, completely free of the jumpsuit that was his ghost form's usual appearance. Strangely enough, though the skin of his hand felt normal (or as normal as he could get anyway), he could still feel the cold bite of Phantom just beneath his flesh, coursing through his veins.

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Danny smiled victoriously.

 _Okay. That's weird, but I'll take it._

Somehow, it appeared as though his human body was just enough to insulate his ghost powers from whatever filter was on this cage. Danny barked an incredulous laugh, reveling in some sort of giddy feeling of triumph. Spectra really did not think this capture through, did she?

Yet again, he attempted to fire an ectoblast at the pipe, hoping to bust it and flood his room with potential, but the light of it just pulsated weakly at his palm, dissipating into naught more but a fit of minuscule fireworks.

He was weak. He hadn't the time to fully recover, and his neglected human needs were really hampering his ability to operate smoothly. Gosh, he was so hungry.

 _Okay. Plan B. Freeze the pipe. Bust it. Flood the room. Escape._

Easy enough. Simple. Poetic. He'd teach whoever it was that built this room that he was not one to sit back and be the damsel in distress. No sirree. He was a regular Houdini at this point, having escaped numerous traps and supposedly inescapable prisons. There wasn't a cage in this world built to contain him!

He slumped tiredly against the cool bars, injured arm tucked securely against his body. Ice powers, thankfully, took close to nothing to activate. So long as he had an inkling of ghost in him, he could freely use them. If they were not so difficult to control, then he'd use them all the time. Unfortunately, or fortunately dependent on how he looked at it, most of his attempts to use them took a more 'area of effect' path than a 'point and shoot' path.

Powerful, but with no real precision or accuracy. To use them was to put bystanders at risk. He smirked, thankful once again for the privacy. There's was no one here he could hurt but himself.

He reached out with his ice powers, feeling around for anything freezable. Frost began to creep across the floor and up the walls. Small flakes began to fall clumsily to the ground. The air became thick as the cold snap condensed the humidity in the air into a fine mist.

He could feel it, the water in the plumbing, as it slowed to a stop, supposedly crystalizing in the pipe. But it didn't burst like he had expected. That was quite lackluster, but he wasn't one to give up so easily.

He withdrew the cold, letting the room warm up again by a light pulse of hot ectoplasmic energy which he held steady just outside the bars. He waited with bated patience, ever eager to leave, as he watched the frost on the walls slowly disperse after what felt to him like hours.

And then, he attacked again, this time with far more gusto, hoping that if he froze it fast enough, the rapidly expanding water would split the pipe.

* * *

Having done some minimal exploration, Maddie found herself back in the kitchen pouring a glass of water. She rested against the counter, watching the water fall from the tap with boredom. Fifteen rooms and nothing to do. What the heck did Vlad do with all of his free time? Did he seriously not have any movies? Any games? Heck, even old textbooks from college would be something.

The water gradually slowed, eventually stopping until it was nothing more than a drip. Brows knitting in momentary confusion, Maddie toyed with the knobs controlling the water to no avail. Apparently, in addition to no taste in entertainment, Vlad also had plumbing problems. For such an overly extravagant house, no fresh water seemed almost like a joke.

 _Just my luck._

She withdrew the cup, only half filled with water, and sipped it thoughtfully, eyes wandering around. She had gone through the doorway directly behind her before, and that turned up nothing useful. Maybe the one to her left, then?

Shrugging listlessly to herself, she padded along the cold floor, following the dimly lit halls and lounges. As she moved, small night lights caught her motion and illuminated the immediate floor. The first few nearly gave her a heart attack, but as she continued on, the light was quickly becoming more than welcome in the dark building.

The farther she went, the colder she got. At first, she thought that the heater simply wasn't running on this side of the building, but after locating the thermostat, her initial theory was proven wrong. It was set for seventy-four degrees fahrenheit. If anything, it was a little warmer than she usually liked it to be.

 _What on Earth?_

She backed away from the cool blue digital screen of the thermostat, abruptly worried that she might be about to experience another one of those horrid panic attacks. She sunk into an old leather lounger, curling up in a futile attempt at lessening the sudden onset of very very cold. Next to her was a knitted throw which she eagerly wrapped herself up in, even going so far as to hide her head within its shelter as she urged whatever this feeling was to go away.

* * *

Danny's room was usually very quiet, the only sounds coming from his own movement and breathing. That's why when he heard a voice coming from above him, he nearly had a heart attack.

He was only at attempt three, the stupid piece of plumbing having yet to burst. Really, he was beginning to wish that all of his plans would just work the first time. That's not to say that it wasn't creaking and groaning encouragingly. At least the pipe was definitely weakening.

He sat back in his cage, letting the room warm back up again via a small, uncharged ectoplasmic fire in his palm. The action was quickly chewing away at his energy reserves, but it was better than just waiting the frost out. There was no telling how long it would take it to thaw without a little push in the right direction.

Above him, he could hear footsteps and a conversation. An argument if the inflections were anything to go by.

 _Better hurry it up._

At this point, he was almost positive that Spectra was supposed to be watching him. An impish grin cracked across his face. He must've really ticked her off to get her to leave him be for this long. Once she had her eyes set on a prey, she was usually fairly difficult to distract. It was not like Spectra to slip up like this, but then again, he wasn't about to start feeling sorry for her.

* * *

Maddie's chest began to ache with a strange feeling. Cold, but not the same bitter cold that had attacked her numerous times now. This one felt like an extension of her own personal brand of cold, but she hadn't yet changed in appearance.

Her bare hand was held before her face, a hint of almost sardonic disappointment gracing the corners of her lips. For once, just once, she'd like something to make sense. If she was going to get this type of cold, then she should at least have the decency to change like she did last time. Would it seriously kill her to have some level of consistency?

But for whatever reason, nothing was happening other than her feeling cold. No panic attacks or transformations. Irritated, she unfurled her legs and arms, keeping a good hold of the blanket. It didn't do much in the way of warming her up, but it did make her feel a little bit more secure.

A voice rang up from somewhere in the distance causing Maddie's ears to prick with interest. Now that could be something worthwhile. If anything, seeking the source of the noise would be something of a distraction. She smiled, happily hopping on the opportunity to not think about being dead for a little bit.

 _Is Vlad still awake?_

The cold in her chest condensed a little and made her shiver. Still no transformation, though. She still appeared human.

 _Just ignore it, Madds. A little cold is nothing to worry about._

Confused, and more than a little frustrated, she hastily dismissed this new sensation as just one more strange, unexplainable thing happening in her life. She had better things to focus on right now. Better things that didn't make her feel like some sort of creature.

She pulled the blanket over her shoulders, donning it like a multicolored cape as she crept around, eager to discern the location of the newest source of drama. Its tasseled border swept across the floor, kicking up dust and various other debris which was a strange feat considering the mansion's otherwise immaculate state. Didn't Vlad say that he had this building staffed? Wouldn't that imply maids or janitors or something?

The woman slunk along the halls, following the shadowy song of whispers that echoed eerily off the walls. This part of the mansion was older, more sinister than the luxurious part she was housed in. The aging wood creaked and groaned with a disquiet malcontent. The floor beneath her bare feet grew dirtier. Her chest, dare she admit it, grew ever more frigid the further she ventured.

Finally, as she rounded one final corner, her body could no longer hold the pressure back. The cold came forth in the form of an abrupt hiccup. Light mist fell from her mouth and nose, dispersing into the air with an otherworldly chill. With it, came some short-lived relief and warmth, but the cold was soon building up again, presumably to meet the same end.

 _Weird. That almost looks like-_

Her thoughts were rudely interrupted by a sudden thud and booming yell that very nearly rattled the walls. Its source was directly below her. The voice sounded feminine, so it couldn't have been Vlad. She frowned at the intricate wood floor thoughtfully.

 _Does he have a basement? I didn't see any stairwells going down._

Shrugging the thought away, she hurriedly pressed her ear against the warm, solid surface of the tiled wood. Smooth as silk, a voice sang up from below with deadly calm, anger and indignation evident by the tone and diction.

"-child is insufferable. I refuse to watch him any longer." A pause. Was this person on the phone? "How dare you!?" Something banged as the speaker supposedly hammered what sounded like a table with her fist. "I held my end of the bargain!"

Unbidden, another burst of frost escaped her lips, this time making her teeth ache a little. Maddie watched it crawl against the dim floor, realization beginning to paint her face with grim understanding.

 _That looks a lot like Phantom's ghost sense..._

Below her, the woman laughed, villainous and depraved, the heinous cackle lacking in any real joy. It was grating, the very sound of it raising all the hairs on the nape of Maddie's neck and resonating with the same melancholic darkness that rested against her heart.

Inexplicably, Maddie began to feel sick, a certain fatigue bearing down on her back like a physical weight. She knew that laugh. How could she ever forget it? That horrible sneer. Those leering eyes. The flash of teeth too sharp to be human. She had only known her for a short time, but Penelope Spectra had scarred her too deep to be dismissed as the mere annoyance that most ghosts could be.

Maddie scrambled to stand, suddenly desperate to get as far away as possible. In a dead sprint, she peeled out of the room, throw fluttering and snapping behind her. In her flight, her feet made no sound against the aging floorboards, but she couldn't stand to think why. Her mind only knew one thing: she had to get away.

* * *

The pipe split with a small, unamused groan of exhaustion rather than the boom Danny had been half-heartedly expecting. Water rushed from the small crack, spurting wildly with varying water pressure.

 _I did it!_

The room, small as it was, was almost immediately coated in a layer of moisture; the floor was steadily gaining a small, versatile pool of liquid as well. This was useful! This was a way out!

He withdrew his arm, Phantom immediately covering the pale skin of his hand with the white glove of his hazmat suit as he waited for the water to reach the inside of his prison.

* * *

Maddie only stopped running when she reached the kitchen, a sudden idea swarming into mind. She came to a dead stop, not even needing to slow down first, as her hand hovered over the phone she had been previously terrified of.

She smirked, suddenly incredulous with her own weakness of mind. Why she had been so scared to pick up a simple phone just seemed so childish now. She was an adult, for heaven's sake. She could handle simple phone-related tasks.

She breathed in. She breathed out. The huntress needed to be completely silent if she was to be unnoticed. Spectra's phone call. If she could just listen in on it, then maybe she could get some information from it.

Her fingers clenched the receiver with deliberate strength and calm. Slowly she pulled it free of its mount, gradually drawing her other hand to muffle the microphone with the plush material of her robe. Only when it was sufficiently quieted did she feel comfortable enough to resume breathing. She carefully raised the speaker to her ear, a conversation immediately springing to life.

"is worthless unless you tend to it. You must feed it misery, angst, and discomfort. Prey upon old wounds. Turn weaknesses against her." Spectra's voice was veiled through some static on the line. Her aura was probably interfering with the transmission frequencies.

"Right. Fine. That sounds easy enough." Vlad! That was Vlad! He was awake! And consorting with Spectra of all things!? He sounded perturbed, uneasy, as though he was doing something that he wasn't particularly comfortable with.

A frustrated growl preceded a rapid succession of barely withheld resentment. "Do not insult me, simpleton. Manipulation of the mind is a difficult operation. It took centuries of-" Suddenly, something loud rang in the background on Spectra's end. It was followed by several shouts and even more metallic ringing. "Ugh… that brat." With no further warning, Spectra hung up on the call, the click of the receiver thudding hollowly against the phone hook.

Maddie slowly pulled away, reseating her own phone on its polished plastic perch. That… That was something. That was something big. Her lips pressed together in a thin line as she contemplated the conversation. The familiar interaction, though mostly hostile, showed that Vlad had some connection to Spectra. They were working together… to do what?

Her hands curled in the multicolored, woolly fabric of the throw. This relationship Vlad had with Spectra, whatever it was, did not bode well. Just when she thought she was free from that ghost's crooked grasp, Maddie felt the clawed fingers of melancholy regain its grip on her. Spectra had a reach far lengthier than Maddie had ever thought possible for a ghost.

* * *

A/N: Phew. This took far longer than it had any right to. Sorry about that, guys. I entered a frenzy of repeated rewrites. I don't know why. I just kept doubting myself, so I had to forcibly break the cycle and post what I had.

Maddie is discovering more and more things the more she digs. Hopefully, she doesn't dig to far and discovers something that she really shouldn't.


	10. Chapter 10

Cassiopeia

Chapter 10

* * *

 _Finally._

Danny flexed his aching wrists, the joints popping and rolling with the action. Ice made quick work of the cuffs; all he had to do was dip the things in water and freeze them. Add in a little force, a little bit of slamming them around and yanking, and BAM! Those cuffs were done for.

… and he was tired again.

Warming up the room after each freeze chewed through his energy reserves faster than he had anticipated. His core ached with a soreness not so unlike a muscle cramp after running. His heart, something that was usually quite tame in ghost form, was hammering away with palpitations. His lungs thirsted for air, for oxygen, and he just couldn't breathe it in fast enough.

He was spent.

But he wasn't done yet. He didn't have the luxury to stop now. If Spectra noticed that he was free of his bindings, then there's no telling what she would do. He had to get out of this cage, and he had to do it quickly.

Ice and water sloshed underfoot as he shuffled to the door of his cage. It was similar to a jail door, a lattice of bars with some oversized hinges and a square lock. It was slightly lopsided, like whoever installed it didn't ever consider that the resident could spring lose of the restraints in the back. It wouldn't take long to take down.

 **Splash.**

The ground was slippery, and his boot didn't fall quite right. His leg slipped out from beneath him, and his core wasn't fast enough to catch him.. Freezing water hit him like a full body bullet, immediately causing his muscles to seize and shiver violently.

 _It's okay. I'm okay. I can do this._

Bracing himself, he pulled himself back up and along the wall. The room was small, so it thankfully didn't take long for him to make it to the doorway. He was cold, so cold. And hungry, tired, exhausted.

With his good arm gripping the wall, he aimed a wave of ice in the general direction of the doorway. It struck, hard, and the metal complained of the abuse. After one more similar strike, it was open enough for him to slip through unimpeded.

Once free, he pushed himself upwards, balancing in the air. His legs were too tired to stand; he had to float. He just hoped he could get through this. He needed to get through this.

 _Two options. One, sneak away. Two, ambush Spectra._

He weighed his options. On the one hand, he was completely and utterly spent. Just floating there was hard enough. If he managed to sneak away, then there was a good chance that Spectra could just track him down later. He looked around. If he had to face Spectra, then this was really the best place he could do it in.

The room was brightly lit, and it was covered in water and ice. This was the best advantage against Spectra that he could score right now.

 _Ambush it is, then._

He kicked and yelled, did everything he did to grab her attention like he did before. He needed her to think that nothing had changed, that he was still in his cage. He rattled the metal as he plummeted the ambient room temperature. Currents in the air picked up, tossing snow and ice and burning the bare skin on his cheeks. Ice flows crawled up the walls until it reached the ceiling.

 _This has to work._

The conversation above him stopped, and he felt his blood freeze with anticipation. The moments it took for Spectra to appear felt like an eternity.

She burst through the ceiling face first as anger flavored the rapid flicking of the wispy trails of ectoplasm stretching behind here tail. She started yelling something that was imminently cut short as she collided heavily into the first shelf of ice. It was transparent, giving Danny a good view of the surprise and rage that flicked across her face. She didn't expect that. Oh no, she was not expecting that at all. The gaping lips and wide eyes would have been comical if Danny wasn't so sure that that expression spelt his semi-immediate doom.

Her eyes told of murder as she took note of the current situation. More ice shuddered and burst from the walls and floor, each structure deadly in its own way. He half expected her to scream, to howl her frustration as most would be apt to do, but instead, she went eerily silent.

It was this silence that really, truly set him on edge. He was fighting a predator, one that hunted the living for so long that Danny was beginning to doubt that Spectra even recalled what it was like to be alive. To him, Spectra resembled a creature, a beast, a horrible hungry _thing._ She wasn't just a ghost anymore. She was dangerous, unthinking, unsympathetic. Sure she was humanoid. She had arms and sometimes even legs, but that was where her semblance to humanity stopped. Murder rolled off of her in waves.

When her eyes locked with his, Danny was suddenly very unsure about this whole "escape" idea. The cage really was the only thing keeping Spectra away from him. In that moment, he felt foolish for breaking free of it.

Spectra only had the time to blink once more before Danny flooded the room with bladed sculptures, spikes, and even hooks. He operated on fear and adrenaline mostly, all too aware of Spectra's predatorial presence. Two serrated blades sprung from his left, a misfire, grazing the side of his thigh, though he barely even noticed in the frenzy of battle. He was too caught up in the fray, too focused on landing a hit, too captivated with the heated throws of battle. He had to win. There was simply no other choice. This thing had threatened too many lives, too many family members, too many friends.

Perhaps, it was this focus on winning that blinded him to Spectra's current state. She was strong, rested, rejuvenated. Power sparked behind the madness that lurked within the red swirls of her eyes. Her arm, the one that had been lost previously, was no longer a quivering stump of ectoplasm. It was fully formed, rigid with a sort of imitated muscular structure that wasn't quite human. The air was alight with a dastardly electric charge that emanated from her form in all directions.

She had fed. Somewhere in the world above him was another victim, another soul that he wasn't able to protect.

Ice leapt out from all directions, clawing and stabbing at the ghost with little articulation. The actions were erratic, lumbering, and slow. Danny's core just wasn't ready for this battle. It simply did not have the strength left in it to outperform her.

She ducked and dodged the frozen arrays of danger with a grace that would make a ballerina cry. Her body split and twisted, the jet black ink of her ectoplasmic discharge decorating the room with a foul, horrible sludge. It smelt of lemon, but felt like dread. Misery hung in the air like a foreign substance, material in ways that could not ever be properly explained.

Amidst the exhaustive confusion and desperation, a smile stretched across the villain's face. Though she was so far out of her element, she could at least revel in the feelings of mortal terror that Danny was no doubt exuding. That much was clear. Her face was split with mania; her hooked teeth, too numerous and thin to be anything remotely human, lined her jaws like a shark. There was blood in the water, and she was not about to let him off the hook so easily.

It was over and done before Danny even knew it. One moment, he was throwing everything he had at her, and the next she was on him, pinning him in place against the metal bars of his enclosure. Metal and ice dug into his suit, probably bruising the flesh. It hurt, but the pain wasn't what Danny was worried about in that moment.

His attention was on Spectra and Spectra alone. She had him. Her fingers, now hooked like the talons of a raptor, gripped his flesh and easily tore through his skin. If he struggled, he would only make the wounds worse, so he hung there, suspended he dimly realized, as he tried to get the ice to obey him again.

He was tired, so very tired. And weak. He was hungry, beaten, and just utterly exhausted. Phantom was no different. He felt the flows around him shutter, but they didn't burst into life. No new additions to the sporadic insanity of ice. He was stuck. Spectra won.

And Spectra knew it. She had the uncanny ability to feel the emotions of others, and she revelled in the sweet nourishment of his own feelings of defeat. She grew stronger as he undoubtedly grew steadily weaker. Strength drained from his body with every drop of tainted ectoplasm that evacuated his body. Spectra greedily inhaled his negative emotions, furthering the damage to his own psyche. He wondered vaguely if she could kill him this way, draining him of his emotion until he was not but a husk of a creature.

"I wonder what it is that makes you Fentons tick," she purred as she leaned in. She was too close, some part of his brain screamed in a panic. Too close, too deadly. Instinct flicked his wrist, trying again to get some ice to spring forth and create some sort of barrier between him and her, but his core just wouldn't listen. "You're mother is fighting her misery just as well as you." Her hands squeezed, rending even more as the talons dug even deeper. "How!?" She shouted, mouth opened wide enough to expose more of her serrated needle teeth than Danny had ever wanted to see.

Despite himself, despite the exhaustion, despite the feeling of being drained, he smirked at her. It was nice, even in this situation, to continue to play into the ghost's frustrations. It could have been anything: a pained grimace or a spastic quirk in his lips brought on by mortal terror. But he knew what it was, and she knew what it was. Defiance, and he hoped that she could taste it too. He hoped that whatever sweet dinner she was currently making of him turned sour with the sentiment. He was going to get the last laugh if it killed him.

Spectra didn't find the gesture nearly as funny as he did. She threw him, her numerous claws dislodging with identical 'shck' noises as he collided into some spikes of his own making. Thankfully, he managed to miss the pointed ends, but that didn't mean that he couldn't feel the broad sides pulverize his rib cage. Stars danced in the peripheral of his vision as he felt the weighty heat of a faint slam into his chest. All the sound around him faded to a single tone that rang in his ear drums like the buzz of a broken speaker turned up too loud.

Some part of him was panicked, but that voice was getting quieter and quieter with each passing moment. He could feel the pain, but it was getting harder and harder to recognize that feeling as a bad thing. It was just there. His head was pointed upwards, his eyes open as he watched the disquieted currents of snow flurry in swirls above his head. Thoughts came and went with little purpose.

This was it, he realized. This was finally it.

He laid there wondering if time had stopped. Surely by now, Spectra would be upon him again, soon. What was taking her so long?

He blinked, and the action momentarily startled him as the world plunged into a brief darkness. By chance, he began to notice colors flickering in his peripheral, the lights morphing into kaleidoscope patterns from the ice. There was green, red, pink, black, white. So much white. The room he was in was all white and filled with beautiful snow drifts. He was in heaven, maybe? Hell?

He wasn't really sure, but couldn't find it in himself to really care either way. What was, was. There was nothing he could do to change it now.

Again, he blinked. Even expecting the darkness, he was still startled yet again when his eyes were closed. The ringing in his ears started to get quieter, but it was still all too loud. More colors flashed in the corners of his vision, lively and beautiful. Some percussive sounds that beat like drums… though maybe that was his heart still hammering to a sluggish rhythm.

Finally, the lights stopped, and something red hung over him, peering at him through a blackened visor. It took a long time to realize it was Val. How long had she been here? Was she dead too? Where did Spectra go?

He felt his body be hoisted up and slung over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes. The action hurt, he could feel the pain, but it was too far away to be real, so he decidedly ignored it. His mind grappled with the concept of Valerie's sudden appearance. She was here? Why? Was she just a figment of his dying mind? Maybe she was secretly the grim reaper… that'd fit with his crazy life he supposed.

Sounds swam in and out of existence. Some were vague words. Others were loud bangs as Val kicked her way through doors.

If he had the strength to, he would have laughed. Valerie, the Red Huntress and Grim Reaper herself, furiously kicking down obstacles and yelling the whole way. The imagery was too perfect.

Soon, they were in some dark hallways which eventually opened up into daylight. It stung his eyes, but the mobile green of the leaves was nice. The warmth of the sun felt good on his skin. The ringing in his ears subsided even more, though it was still not quite enough to make out words.

They approached something. Danny could tell because of how Valerie changed her gait. Why wasn't she using her hoverboard? There were more voices and shouting, a green shape materialized and melted away. A ghost shield, Danny realized. For a moment, he thought it strange for the afterlife to have ghost shields, but then figured that if anyone could really use it, the denizens of the GZ really could.

They climbed into another white room. This one was lined with platinum and green pinstriping. The Fenton RV?

The shouting turned into hurried whispers as he was slung onto a soft surface. He hadn't felt comfort in days, and the cushions felt heavenly beneath his body. He closed his eyes, content to just die there. It was nice, warm. Val was even there. It was perfect.

He relaxed, ignoring the voices that he couldn't quite make out anyway. This was nice. Far better than the creepy underground cage room, anyway.

And then, out of nowhere, he was slapped by a hand plated with metal.

 _Ow, Valerie. Really?_

The motion jarred some life back into his bones. Pain flared up from every which way, each bruise, abrasion, and cut vying for attention. He rolled over to his side, groaning and curling into a ball.

 _Peace and quiet. That's all I want. Is that too much to ask for?_

When he cracked open his eyes, two figures swam into view.

The most immediate and commanding presence was, of course, Val. She stood proudly, arms crossed, shoulder cannon trained in his direction. She was an angry red blur on a white background, and she was not about to let him forget it. A faint buzzing could be heard as her suit recycled ambient ghost energy. He hoped it wouldn't chew through the remainder of his along the way.

And then, in front of the bright red suit of armor, was another blurred form. Long orange hair, navy overcoat, and bluejeans. Danny smiled, happy to see a friendly face, though the gesture likely came out as a grimace. Jazz was knelt down, shoulders hunched and bent with worry. Her long, orange hair drifted down over her shoulders, frazzled and kinked. Even as messed up as Danny was, he could still make out a dark bruise decorating one of his sister's eyes.

He tried to reach out to touch her, to let her know that he was okay, but the action fell short. His arm hung limply off the bench he was laid down in, fingers brushing the grooved metallic ground. He only dimly registered that he was still wearing gloves. Still Phantom.

 _Still Phantom (aka Public Enemy #1). In the Fenton RV (aka the Fenton Ghost Assault Vehicle). With Val (aka the Red Huntress). This isn't a recipe for disaster._

Jazz let out a small panicked noise and quickly replaced the appendage, careful to lay it straight out instead of curling it back around his torso like he wanted it to be.

Gosh, his arm hurt. It felt like it was on fire. It took a moment of processing for him to remember he had been shot there. So much had happened since that first fateful fight with that new ghost, his memory was beginning to get fuzzy.

Then, movement. The whole world rocked and swayed. At first he thought it was all in his head, but he noticed Jazz and Val have to brace themselves numerous times over.

Against his better judgement, he decided to risk propping his head up. He wanted a better view of his surroundings, and if these people weren't going to let him die peacefully, then they'd have to put up with him being mobile.

He strained for a moment, but was too exhausted to really see much. Luckily, Jazz noticed and quickly fit a pillow beneath his head.

It was a little odd being coddled as Phantom. Phantom was always supposed to be elusive and strong… This was just… it was odd. Not to say that it was unappreciated… it was just… weird for lack of a better word. He felt strangely exposed on the sofa of the RV.

Nevertheless, a kind gesture awarded a kind word. He smiled again at Jazz and choked on a thanks. His throat had gone so dry. When had that happened? He could really use some water.

Jazz ruffled his hair in response, but didn't look any less worried. Her eyes never left him, and her stiff posture spoke of anxiety.

The pillow eased his head upwards enough that he could see the driver's cab of the RV, now. In the driver's seat was a third figure, large and orange, and driving like he'd never operated a vehicle in his life.

 _Dad! If Dad and Jazz are here, then Mom has to be too!_

She was safe. Spectra was lying. That orange ghost was right all along.

He sunk further into the seat, letting the swaying motion lull him into sleep. He wasn't scared. He was already so close to death that neither Val nor his dad could make him any closer. He was flirting with the abyss, occasionally lapsing into unconsciousness and glimpsing infinite passages into oblivion. It was strangely peaceful, like sleep but colder and quicker. Or maybe it was more like falling but with pain before you hit the bottom.

Every once in awhile, a bump would jarr him awake, and he'd hear Jazz shout something along the lines of "are you trying to kill us?" She was still seated to his front, one hand gripping a seat handle, and the other secured over his torso to keep him from rolling. Val had eventually retreated to the passenger seat. The red of her shoulder was the only part of her that was visible.

"I'm driving the best I can!" his dad shouted back. He was flustered. Vision recovering, Danny could only now notice that his dad's suit was torn. Beneath the tears was a patchwork of white bandages.

 _Jazz has a black eye. Dad is injured. The Red Huntress is here._

 _Where is Mom?_

Sluggishly, he pulled an elbow underneath himself and propped himself up. He had to check the back seats. His mom had to be there.

Immediately, Jazz pushed him back down. "Stay still," she hissed. "They still don't trust you." She pointed upward to a fork protruding from the ceiling. That device was a taser. There was one hanging over every seat in the car. After all, his family was nothing if not paranoid. They were always accusing someone in the family of being a ghost.

Danny laughed quietly. He supposed it would only be fair if he got shocked by that thing.

"There!" Val had stood in her seat and was pointing to something on the side of the road. "Pull over there, and throw up the shield again."

The RV rolled as his dad barreled into the turn. The hydraulic treads on the oversized vehicle were about the only thing keeping it from capsizing.

Brakes were slammed, Valerie was pressed to the windshield, and Jazz had fallen over. Somehow, miraculously, Danny managed to stay where he was, though he did smack his forehead on a metal beam. He looked over at his dad. He was unaffected by his own suicidal brand of driving habits, merely putting the RV into park and flipping the lever that routes power from the engine to the ghost shield.

 _Trapped._

… _not that I'm in any condition to get away anyway._

Danny closed his eyes, desperate for just another wink of rest before the inevitable questioning and prodding, but it didn't come soon enough. His dad was already standing over him, blotting out the overhead light. Fury decorated the furrows of his usually kind face.

It was an odd reaction to have. He wasn't quite sure what he had done to deserve such a disconcerting glower from his father. His ears were ringing again, and the sudden lack of motion from the RV threw the world into a dizzy fray of vertigo. He felt like he was falling into infinity, like he had gone intangible and fell through the world.

Jazz popped up before the hulking man in a spur of protectiveness. Danny could almost imagine the expression on her face, angry and full of reprimand. "Just what do you think you're doing?" she nearly screamed, her lungs not quite big enough to really throw any strength into the words. "He's hurt, concussed, and bleeding out. Do you have any idea what he's just been through? The damage you're causing?" She held her hand out and started ticking off things on her fingers. "He needs water, food, first aid, rest, and most importantly _care_." She waved her five fingers around in front of his dad's disinterested face. "He needs care, Dad! Not whatever you're about to do. Just look at him!"

His dad's eyes crawled from Jazz's outburst to him. It was strange, alien even, to be gazed upon as Phantom by his father. It had happened numerous times before, but he always had an advantage those times. He could always escape or trick him somehow. Now, all he had was Jazz. It was… a vulnerable feeling. One that he did not want to experience now after everything else he had just been through.

The fear must have been evident in his face because Jack's disposition faltered slightly. He looked at Phantom, at him, with a hint of sympathetic curiosity behind the raw anger. He swept his arm, air whooshing as it was displaced in the small vehicle. Frustration colored his tone which was unusually quiet for the man. "Maddie is gone, Jazz! Gone!" His other hand came to rest on her shoulder. "She's gone, and the only clue we have is that!" His resentment was barely restrained as he coldly referred to Danny… to Phantom as a thing.

 _Mom is missing? Mom is actually missing!?_

Jazz grabbed the hand on her shoulder roughly, a similar bought of stubborn frustration coloring her actions as well. They were eerily similar to each other in personality. "He. Didn't. Do. It." She gesticulated madly. "Just… look at him! He can't even stand let alone kidnap anyone! He needs help!"

Jack pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyebrows knitting furiously. "It's tricking you, Jazz. Why can't you see that? This ghost is lying to you!"

At this, Valerie shyly piped up. It was clear that she felt out of place among these warring family members. "Uhm, not to overstep my boundaries, but Phantom is not pretending." Her voice was distorted with a voice changer. She stepped closer and experimentally poked his arm with the barrel of an ectopistol. "You should've seen where he was."

Jack glared at her with a pointed look as she quickly raised her arms in surrender. "Not that I'm suggesting we trust him!" she quickly amended. "I just don't think he did it. It's not his style."

"Not his style!?" Jack roared. "This piece of scum knows where Maddie is! I know that it does!"

Jazz backed up, arms waving uselessly. "Woah, let's not turn against each other-"

Cold burst in Danny's chest as Valerie's suit let out a small discharge of static. She was angry now, indignant with his dad's outburst. She stood tall, suit sparking with electricity. "You do _not_ speak to me that way, Mr. Fenton. I've fought against him for over a year now. I think I know when something reeks of Phantom and when something does not."

"Fought him? _Fought him?_ " Jack was shaking now he was so mad. "I've studied him! I've studied ghosts for decades! They're unpredictable, undead terrors. This one is no different! You think that just because it's acted one way for so long doesn't mean that it can't act another?"

Danny jumped when he felt a hand fall on his head. Luckily, it was just Jazz. She was looking at him with worry as her eyes roamed his body. He felt somewhat self-conscious. If he looked half as bad as he felt, then he had to look just completely and utterly awful. His dad and Valerie continued arguing in the background, their shouts causing his headache to raise in pain.

Jazz frowned determinedly and mouthed a "sorry" to her little brother. She turned away, and shouted. "Family meeting now!" as she pushed Valerie towards the door of the RV. Danny could feel the frustration projected from the ectoplasmic imprints that her suit was spitting out, but she complied anyway. Not without slamming the door shut behind her though.

With one obstacle taken care of, Jazz turned to the next one, their dad. He was standing there, confusion, anger, and frustration evident by his expression. "This ends today," Jazz ground out. "And this ends now."

 _Oh no. Please don't reveal me Jazz._

"I am _tired_ of you, and mom for that matter, not looking at the facts." She pointed an accusatory finger as she advanced on her own father. "Have you ever captured a specimen as intelligent as Phantom is? Have you ever held a conversation?" Jack opened his mouth, but Jazz plowed right on through whatever he was about to say. "He's a _thinking being_ , Dad! He's sentient!"

Jack waved dismissively. "None of the ghosts we capture are sentient, Jazzy. They can't feel." He was quiet, though, eying Danny from the corner of his vision.

Jazz threw up her arms, exasperated. "That's exactly what I'm saying! None of the ghosts you capture are sentient! You haven't captured one that is. You can't compare the reactions of an ectopus to someone like Phantom! That's like comparing something like an earthworm to a human! It's just not right!"

Jack fell silent, running his fingers across his chin thoughtfully as he perched himself on the edge of a seat. The calm and quiet was uncharacteristic of the large man. Jazz was making her mark.

 _Way to go, Jazz! Convince him to trust me! But please don't reveal me to him. I'm not ready for that._

She circled around Jack, approaching Danny with a fleeting look of concern. "You want answers? You want to know where Mom is?" She turned away, facing their dad again. "Just ask him. Talk to him. He's not just some reanimated glob of consciousness. He's a person. He can respond with intelligent answers, and he doesn't need goading or…" She glanced upward at the fork protruding from the ceiling. "or-or-or torture, or whatever you were about to do."

Danny traced her gaze to the fork, too. Somehow, the thought of experiencing more pain did not scare him as much as probably should have. He didn't think he could get more hurt if he tried, right now.

Their dad's face fell. "You really think so low of me?" He sighed and leaned back into his chair as it heatedly protested against the man's weight. He was quiet for some time, thinking up a way to phrase his response. "You can't torture a ghost," he began. "It doesn't understand torture. It would know that it is being injured, but it wouldn't know how to respond." He fidgeted with his fingers, eyes closed and deep in thought. "Torture wouldn't work. The ghost would simply not understand that the injury will stop if it gives me answers."

Cautiously, Jazz neared their dad and crouched low to meet his gaze. "Talking will work. Trust me." She shot a stern glance back at her little brother who was pretending to not hear the private conversation going on not two feet away. "He wants to talk to you. He's just too tired and hurt to initiate it."

The man contemplated this before leaning forward and swallowing his daughter in a fierce hug. When he released her, he patted her shoulder and gently brushed her bruised cheek with his hands. "You're a good person, Jazz." He ruffled the top of her head affectionately. "And as stubborn as your old man!" He barked a laugh, some of the playful light returning to his gaze. "I might have taught you _too_ well…" His gaze traced back towards Danny who instinctively shied away. "I just hope you're right. This ghost kid is tricky. I don't like trusting his word."

Jazz pulled away too, eagerly returning to her brother's side. From the look on her face, she was just barely holding back a freak out. "You can trust him." She started rummaging around in cabinetry and rifling through packages. "He's a good person, too. He will only help if you give him the chance."

* * *

A/N: Happy Halloween! Enjoy a longer-than-normal chapter.

Gotta carve a pumpkin now before its too late.


	11. Chapter 11

Cassiopeia

Chapter 11

* * *

The engine idled and whirled, kicking the steering wheel with miniature stutters as it shimmied and turned beneath his grip. The Fenton RV, or as he lovingly dubbed it, the Fenton Ghost Assault Vehicle, shuttered violently, seemingly upset with its rough treatment. They'd been crawling the rural countryside over more dilapidated roads than he thought possible. Twice now, he had to repair the left tread. It got banged against an outcropping of stone jutting from the road early in their trip and kept repeatedly kinking.

Boredom thrummed his fingers in a repetitive pattern as he watched the lone blip on the tracker. It was a weak signal, not even registering as much more than an atmospheric anomaly. And unmoving. Motion sensors couldn't sense anything from the thing.

Still though, a blip, however small and unassuming, was something. A tiny, underpowered piece of hope.

His lips quirked. His thigh cramped. His scalp suddenly itched. How anyone stayed still for an extended period of time was beyond him. He needed to move. He needed to do something. His wife could be in there right now!

A drawn, shaky sigh interrupted his musings and impulsive fidgeting. Jazz, his Jazzerinces, his little girl, was next to him watching the blip on the monitor too. A black eye decorated the side of her face that he couldn't see. He was an oblivious man, but he did not let her injury escape his notice. She kept running her fingers through her long hair, drawing it forward to cover the bruise almost self-consciously.

Finally, a despondent **beep** rang from the console. His attention was immediately drawn forward through the windshield towards the derelict building sprawling across the valley. It was old, older than the road they were on, and broken down. Windows were shattered. A door hung ajar. From here, he couldn't even make out the other end of the property. It was just a huge, bloated corpse of a building, collapsing under its own weight like a beached whale.

"It's moving," Jazz whispered. She sounded almost bubbly, giddy as she traced the movement of the tracker.

Another **beep**. And another. Quicker still, yet another beeping noise.

"It's getting closer-" Jack warned. He looked at his daughter. She was pretty roughed up. He was roughed up too. They wouldn't match the ghost boy's strength as they were now. Mind made, he threw an oversized switch. A small alarm chimed, and the engine went dead only to be replaced with high pitched whines.

"You're activating the defensive systems!?"

Stress had a strange effect on Jazz. She was throwing herself headlong into this search for the ghost kid, injury notwithstanding. She was becoming irrational, losing sight of their shared mission.

Af first, Jack understood this behavior as some sort of vendetta. Phantom's ectosignature was among the most prominent recorded at their portal the moment Maddie went missing. There were some other signatures, but none known. As soon as Jazz had heard about this, she demanded to know the whereabouts of the BOO~merang, presumably to track down Phantom herself and exact some sort of revenge...

Now, after seeing the happiness and hope that hung off of her crooked grin, he didn't think as much. If anything, she seemed more excited to see the ghost than to capture it.

 _Odd._

However, panic was quickly fading that crooked smile. "You can't activate those now! What if they target him?!" She wrestled for the controls, heatedly flipping the DIP switches that controlled numerous automated systems.

"So what if they target him?" Switches flipped with metallic clicks barely audible behind the increasing pace of the motion tracker. With one arm, he swept her aside, barring his daughter from the center console. His free hand flicked the switches back into their rightful positions as he re-established control of the GAV.

Stuttering, his daughter groped fruitlessly for the dash again. Her tone pitched and cracked, and none of the words coming from her lips made any articulate sense. Her eyes met his, and the sincerity of her worry hammered him in the gut. Maybe he was getting sentimental. Maybe he was cracking under the pressure of finding Maddie. Maybe he was finally off his rocker and about to commit his worst careless blunder of all.

But he couldn't stand to see his Jasmine like that. The teal of her eyes cut through her hair which was swathed carelessly in all directions. The bruise on her eye spoke of his own gross incompetence to protect her. Her skin was flushed as she struggled against his own brute strength.

 _Jazz is smart. She knows what she is doing._

Sucking in a huge breath, he released Jazz. Brief confusion followed by a murmur of appreciation accompanied her as she returned to flipping the switches for the weapons off. The vehicle shuttered as it rerouted power through its cores. "Might want to bring the car around-"

Jack agreed. He popped the gear shift into neutral, and turned the vehicle such that it could make a quick getaway. He watched the tracker again. The little green dot was closing in on their position.

Jazz positioned herself by the door, eyes glued on the entrance to the ramshackled building. "Now. The ghost shield." Without a further word, she flung the door open. Jack turned and flicked the switch for the shield. A red alarm light lit on the dash, warning him that they were vulnerable now.

"-Did you do that to him!?"

"No."

"Well, what did?"

"Don't know."

The Red Huntress clambered heavily into the RV, the weight of her and her unwilling passenger causing it to shift unsettlingly. Jack was reminded of the dented treading on that side and hoped that it would hold. Jazz hopped back in immediately after, looking somewhat angry.

"Well, something had to do that to him!"

The stranger dumped Phantom onto a couch and crossed her arms. "Do I look like a psychic?" The blood red armor around her shifted and bristled at the prodding.

Jazz stopped cold in her tracks, hands hovering uncomfortably mid rant. "... He's not moving."

"Tell me something I don't know."

"Maybe we should use the containment field?" Jack suggested. He really didn't like the proximity of his daughter to this ghost. He'd feel a lot better if it was contained somewhere safe.

"No point wasting energy on that." The huntress prodded the ghost's cheek with the tip of her boot. "Phantom's out cold. Probably isn't even aware of where he is."

Green was pooling on the floor boards in sluggish puddles. Was it all coming from the ghost kid?

"There was another ghost in there. A nasty one. Shot it a couple of times before it took off."

"Was Maddie in there?"

"... no."

The three sat in silence. The forth laid prone with ragged breathing and the occasional gurgling sound.

"What-" Jack was stunned. They found him. He was supposed to have Maddie. She had to be in there. "Are you sure you checked everywhere?"

The huntress whipped around towards Jack. "What do you think!?" She threw her arm to the side, pointing at the enormous structure through the window. "I could spend days in there, weeks! It's huge!" She kicked the leg of the couch, the metal giving a hearty clung against her plated boots. "Friggin took me long enough just finding Phantom, and I had a tracker!" Head shaking, the metal lattices of her armor laid just a little flatter, deflating a little with defeat. "Finding a human in there… we'd need directions."

Their eyes all fell once again on Phantom. Twin gouges tore into his shoulders. A long laceration tore into his right thigh. An older, more rotten looking gash spanned the length of his arm. More and more green spilled onto the clean metal of the RV's floorboards.

"Well, he ain't getting any deader." Without much more warning, the huntress cracked her fingers and rolled her neck. Her hand wound back before sharply snapping forward and smacking Phantom in the face. The sound rang like a metal baseball bat hitting a tree trunk, and the ghost rolled forward groaning.

"What are you doing!?" Jack and Jazz both shouted in unison.

In response, the huntress rolled her shoulders. She dismissively waved Jack down. "I got this." To Jazz, she added, "he's more sturdy than he looks." She tossed a look over her shoulders, and Jack got the distinct feeling that she had rolled her eyes at him. "Just drive us out of here."

Jack fingered the wheel and eyed the ghost through the rearview mirror with suspicion. Something was off. He could sense it. These two, Jazz and the Red Huntress, were expressing a familiarity to the ghost kid that they shouldn't have.

Then, he caught something suspicious, a flash of recognition in the ghost kid's green eyes. He reached out towards Jazz, and Jack shifted uneasily, fighting the urge to wrestle back that appendage. It fell halfway. The ghost wasn't even able to lift his head as Jazz hurriedly laid the arm back at his side.

Jack side eyed the Red Huntress. She was watching the interaction with a cool detachment, weapon trained should the ghost try anything. She caught him watching and tipped her head in challenge. Jack motioned for her to keep her eyes on the ghost kid, to which she nodded once and made a shoo-ing motion with her hand.

The command was clear. 'I got this. You just get driving.'

Jack blew out a breath that he had been holding long enough to make his chest ache. His arms were shaking, both from the strain of the previous days and the stress of having a ghost, a volatile one at that, held up on his couch.

He threw the lever again, switching the power from the defensive systems to the engine. It kicked once, twice, and a third time before roaring back to life. Jack frowned at the weak start. He was going to need to recharge the power source when he got home.

The RV crawled forward as Jack tested the onry left tread. When he decided that it was holding strong, he punched it. The vehicle peeled away, tossing mud, dirt, and gravel in its wake as the old road wound through the hillside.

Every once in a while, Jack would sneak a peek at the ghost boy through the rear view mirror. A small pillow, one he had cross stitched a smiling ghost onto, was wedged beneath its head. Jazz kept a hand on his side, holding him still whenever the RV rocked unsteadily. She and the Red Huntress were whispering to each other now, arguing about something.

When had he lost track of Jazz? When had she developed such a relationship with Phantom? It was a slap in the face. A wake up call. A bucket of ice water on a cold winter's day. He disapproved, but something in the way Jazz was glaring at the Red Huntress told him to not press his luck. He'd have to approach that subject some other time.

 _CAR!_

The RV swerved around the single car that had appeared in the oncoming lane. It rolled, careening into a dangerous path on the far shoulder of the road, rattling as it collided with various roadside debris.

"Pay attention!" The Red Huntress snapped.

"Are you trying to kill us?" His daughter complained.

He really wasn't. He was trying his best, but too much was happening at once. He gradually pulled the RV back into the driving lane with an apologetic glance backwards which only earned him more goading.

"-stop looking back here and watch the road!" The external speakers warbled when the huntress raised her voice, giving her an alien sound. She stomped, or rather, stampeded her way to the front, bulldozing through some stashed electronics. She slammed her fist on the dash. "Phantom isn't the one I should be worried about," she declared heatedly. "You're the one that needs watching."

"I'm doing the best I can," the man mumbled tiredly. This was a lot for one guy to handle. He wondered if his wife could have handled it better.

"Then do better." Metal clanked rudely as she deposited herself in the passenger seat. "Consider me your co-pilot."

Jack glanced back at the rear view mirror, but the huntress caught the action. She was sharp, gifted with a hawk-like precision. Before he knew it, she snapped the rear view mirror from its mount. "Pay. Attention." She growled the command as she dropped the mirror onto the floor. "Phantom is no threat right now."

Mouth open, Jack prepared to complain, but belatedly decided that the stranger beside him was right. He clicked his jaw closed and chewed the inside of his cheek instead.

"There was a clearing for runaway trucks just a ways down this road. It's flat enough to park on."

Jack hummed in agreement. He needed to park and settle down. They were too far out to trek back home without Maddie, now. They needed to regroup. He caught himself before he could sneak another glance back. If they were going to find Maddie, then they needed to get information from the ghost kid. That would be no easy task.

"Focus."

Trees zipped by along with the occasional car. The left tread kept pulling, so Jack had to keep a steady rightward counter steer to keep the RV going straight. He could swear that he heard Jazz whispering to Phantom in the back.

 _Just what is her relationship to that ghost?_

"There!" The huntress stood in her seat, pointing to a straightaway of flattened earth. "Pull over there, and throw up the shield again."

He wrenched the wheel to the left, fighting the broken tread as it bucked beneath the vehicle. Honestly, he was too tired to argue with the huntress's strong personality, so he quietly complied, barreling into the turn. Here was as good a place as any other.

But he forgot to hit the break, as per usual. Brakes were a hard thing to remember on the best of days. Today, they were practically non-existent, only coming into use when slammed. Slowing down was only a waste of time anyway.

The RV rocked and threw a couple of violent bumps before Jack pulled the parking brake. The first took out the huntress who was standing in her seat. The second managed to take out Jazz who had braced herself, but not well enough. The ghost boy remained where he was. Jazz had successfully managed to keep him in place with a steady hand.

The lever for the defense system was thrown. The engine quieted with a sad, desolate putter. His knees creaked and groaned as he rocked forward and out of the driver's seat. It was a surreal situation, really. One he never expected to be in.

The Red Huntress removed herself from the windshield, suit sparking in unspoken rage. Jack left her before she could unleash it on him. He just really didn't have the energy to deal with that right now.

He approached the ghost, the primary suspect in his wife's disappearance, with undisguised contempt. Green littered the area as ectoplasm oozed from numerous wounds. It was slow to respond, eyes glazed as it gradually became aware of Jack's presence. There was something in there, his mind told him. There was something inside of Phantom that spoke of intelligence.

Jazz recovered from her spill and bounced back up, effectively blocking his advance on the ghost boy. There was stern look about her. She was not going to let Jack pass. Not without speaking her mind first.

"Just what do you think you're doing?!" Her voice was harsh and grating, tempered with fresh panic. Panic… and worry? For the ghost boy? "He's hurt, concussed, and bleeding out. Do you have any idea what he's just been through? The damage you're causing?" She was so flustered that she started listing things and ticking them off on her fingers. "He needs water, food, first aid, rest, and most importantly _care_." She stood on her toes, waving her hand in his face. "He needs care, Dad! Not whatever you're about to do. Just look at him!"

Jazz was panting, shaking. Her clothes were streaked with ectoplasm, and there was a scared, feral look in her eyes. This was not something that she would back down on. Not easily, at least.

There was a hushed noise as Phantom tried to press himself into the back of the couch. Green eyes were open and trained on him, the ghost's expressive face giving way to a fearful, wide-eyed stare. Ectoplasm of all colors were matted in his hair and smeared across his rubbery suit. He… no not he… it was a picture of pity, barely able to even raise its head up enough to meet Jack's gaze.

But, however small, however childlike and endearing, this ghost was still just that. A ghost. It knew where Maddie was, and that was more than enough of a reason to question it. Jazz had to understand that. She _had_ to.

He looked back at his daughter, understanding now what this must look like from her point of view. He must seem monsterous for wanting to fish for answers from Phantom. He needed her to understand. Phantom couldn't hurt like they could. Finding Maddie was the priority right now.

He spoke as gently as he could, but frustration still bleed through, . "Maddie is gone, Jazz! Gone!" Throat tight, Jack had to take a breath to calm down. He placed a large hand on his daughter's shoulder. She was so small compared to him, so young and naive. "She's gone, and the only clue we have is that!" He flicked his head in Phantom's direction, not really caring how angry he sounded.

Jazz stood there a moment, probably a little shell-shocked before her face clouded with frustration. Her fingers wrapped around the hand he had settled on her shoulder and wrenched it away. She jutted her jaw and glared… _glared_ at Jack. "He. Didn't. Do. It." Her arms flew around wildly as she emphasized her words and exasperation. "Just… look at him! He can't even stand let alone kidnap anyone! He needs help!"

 _Not this again._

Jack grumbled threats to himself, mostly directed at Phantom for swaying his daughter's mind. She _needed_ to understand that. She really _really_ did. He growled, voice gravelly with exhaustion. 'It's tricking you, Jazz." Then, with an extra hint of desperation, "Why can't you see that?" His eyes were tearing up. He needed her to understand. "This ghost is lying to you!"

The Red Huntress pushed past Jack. For all of her previous sass and ire, here she looked a little sheepish and out of place. "Uhm, not to overstep my boundaries, but Phantom is not pretending." To prove the point, she stalked close to the ghost, prodding him with the barrel of her sidearm. The ghost had a delayed reaction, only just barely flinching. His body was moving sluggishly, and his eyes kept closing as though he was feeling faint."You should've seen where he was." The huntress shuddered and rubbed her armor as though she was trying to rid herself of the memory.

Jack scowled at her. It was going to be hard enough to get Jazz to back down without some stranger coming in and validating her claims.

The huntress quickly stepped back, hands up in complacency. "Not that I'm suggesting we trust him!" she amended. "I just don't think he did it. It's not his style."

Something snapped in Jack. These two people, they didn't _know_ ghosts like he did. They didn't dedicate decades of their lives to the subject. "Not his style!?" His voice was raised, and it echoed in the metal of the RV. He jabbed an accusing finger in the ghost's direction. "This piece of scum knows where Maddie is! I know that it does!"

Jazz backed up from the outburst, mentioning something about not wanting them to turn on each other, but the sentiment was lost.

"You do _not_ speak to me that way, Mr. Fenton." The hair on Jack's neck rose from a sudden static charge in the air. The huntress's voice dropped low to a growl. "I've fought against him for over a year now." Red reflected from the overhead light as she crossed her arms haughtily. "I think I know when something reeks of Phantom and when something does not."

"Fought him? _Fought him?_ " Jack was shaking now he was so mad. "I've studied him! I've studied ghosts for decades! They're unpredictable, undead terrors. This one is no different! You think that just because it's acted one way for so long doesn't mean that it can't act another?"

"Yes!" The huntress threw her hands in the air, exasperated. "I've tracked this ghost, recorded patterns in his behavior. He's so predictable, it hurts!"

"That's how it tricks you!" He ran his hand down his face, frustrated that the huntress couldn't see the facts. "It acts in one way to lull you into a false sense of security. Then, when you least expect it, it-"

"It what?" the huntress shouted. "Gets himself trapped and beaten half to death!" She laughed darkly. "Yeah, I guess that was unpredictable. A real good ruse." She leaned against the wall, nodding in the ghost's direction. "Good job, Phantom. Finally surprised me. Good show."

Her gaze lingered for a moment too long. Guilty? Was the huntress guilty? Now that he thought about it, she was acting oddly defensive of the ghost boy.

First, his daughter. Now, the Red Huntress. Just what did these two see in him?

Speaking of, Jazz bolted upright, face flushed and stubborn as ever. Shouting, "family meeting now," at the top of her small lungs. She began roughly escorting the Red Huntress to the side door, ignoring her complaints and protests.

 **Bang!**

The door slammed as the huntress made her dramatic exit, and suddenly it was just him and his daughter… and the ghost kid, but he wasn't really moving so he didn't count. When she turned to face him, there was something angry that burned behind her gaze. "This ends today," she ground out between clenched teeth. "And this ends now."

One step cleared their shared distance, and she was on him in an instant. "I am _tired_ of you, and mom for that matter, not looking at the facts. Have you ever captured a specimen as intelligent as Phantom is? Have you ever held a conversation?"

 _You can't converse with a ghost… That's why we built the ghost gabber-_

He opened his mouth prepared to say as much, but his daughter was having none of that.

"He's a _thinking being_ , Dad! He's sentient!" She punctuated the phrase 'thinking being' by slapping the butt of her fist into her palm. It was a habit of hers to over dramatize things like this. One that she never let go of over the years.

Jack waved dismissively. "None of the ghosts we capture are sentient, Jazzy. They can't feel." Even as he said this, he found his gaze almost magnetised to the ghost kid. He… no not he… stop lapsing into that. It was regarding him with a wide-eyed stare. It looked exposed, weak, vulnerable… scared?

Jazz interrupted his thoughts, throwing her arms up in a fit of frustration. "That's exactly what I'm saying! None of the ghosts you capture are sentient! You haven't captured one that is. You can't compare the reactions of an ectopus to someone like Phantom! That's like comparing something like an earthworm to a human! It's just not right!"

Oof. That stung. That declaration stung more than any physical ailment. Jasmine, his own daughter, tossing into question the methods by which he performed his life-long pursuit. Dizzy with the consequence, Jack sat anxiously on the edge a seat, fidgeting and running his fingers over the stubble that was accumulating on his chin.

The implications… the implications were staggering.

His daughter circled around, approaching the ghost. "You want answers? You want to know where Mom is?" Her hair whipped as she spun on her heel to face him. "Just ask him. Talk to him. He's not just some reanimated glob of consciousness. He's a person. He can respond with intelligent answers, and he doesn't need goading or…" She glanced upward at the fork protruding from the ceiling. "or-or-or torture, or whatever you were about to do."

 _Torture?_

He looked at the ghost lying prone on the couch in front of him. Torturing that creature now would be more of an act of cruelty than anything. Was that why Jazz was looking at him like some sort of monster?

"You really think so low of me?" The sentence was out of his mouth, whispered before he was even aware that he was speaking. The confused features on Jazz's face confirmed his suspicions. His little girl really thought he was going to torture this ghost for information. A natural assumption, he supposed, given his profession. But there was more to spectral psychology than that.

He leaned heavily into the chair, tensions making the muscles in his back ache with unsung stress.

 _How to explain this… sensitively._

"You can't torture a ghost," he began, cautious to not sound so callous. Jazz was volatile right now. She needed to understand that no undue harm would befall anything by his hand. "It doesn't understand torture." He remembered back to the lab, to the test subjects. They responded to violence with violence. There would be no cooperation between a scientist and a subject that had been harmed during testing. "It would know that it is being injured, but it wouldn't know how to respond."

 _How will I get Phantom to talk, then?_

Everything seemed so hopeless and bleak. With Maddie gone, Jack felt like he was floundering about like a fish out of water. He was one half of a two-person team. He had to find her. He felt so lost without her.

"Torture wouldn't work," he reiterated, more to himself than anything. "The ghost would simply not understand that the injury will stop if it gives me answers."

A soft sound of fabric heralded his daughter as she closed the distance between them. Her eyes were bright and a little more hopeful than they were before. "Talking will work. Trust me." Her attention shifted momentarily to the ghost, but when she looked back, a shy smile dusted her face. "He wants to talk to you. He's just too tired and hurt to initiate it."

 _Could it really be that easy?_

… _Jazz is smart, smarter than I am, at least. She would know better than I._

Suddenly, Jack felt overcome with an appreciative affection towards his daughter. He was lucky she visited when she did. It was nice to have such a smart, capable partner at his side. He lunged forward and swallowed his daughter in a huge hug, ignoring the green smears of ectoplasm that transferred from her clothes to his.

When he released her, he almost laughed at her expression. She must've thought he was being ridiculous and clingy, but before she could protest, he had to get a point across. He'd hate for something to happen to him before he could pay her this due compliment. He brushed her cheek gently, tracing the bruise she got defending him. He was foolish for thinking he could do this alone.

"You're a good person, Jazz." His fingers found themselves knotted in the hair that she kept pulling over her face, so he proudly ruffled her hair instead. "And as stubborn as your old man!" She looked so stunned, that Jack couldn't help the laugh that escaped him. "I might have taught you _too_ well…" Really, she was handling the situation well considering this was the first emergency situation she had to work in. Jack couldn't help but count his lucky stars.

Leaning to the side, he looked over his daughter's shoulder to the ghost occupying the couch. It was breathing heavier now, looking a little bit more alert than it had when the Red Huntress first slung it there. Discreetly, it pressed itself away from him, shying away from his attentions. This reaction was a lot different from Phantom's usual unapologetic and boisterous self. He hoped that didn't mean that Phantom had lost his fire. The little guy could actually be quite reliable so long as you didn't expect him to stick around after a fight.

"I just hope you're right. This ghost kid is tricky. I don't like trusting his word."

Jazz pulled away, out of Jack's grasp, eagerly returning to the ghost's side. "You can trust him." Her voice hitched as though she was just barely suppressing a hiccup or a sob as she abruptly turned and startled rifling through the first aid cabinets. "He's a good person, too. He will only help if you give him the chance."

* * *

A/N: This is sort of a sister chapter to the last one. Not a whole lot new revealed here, so I'll be posting the following chapter tomorrow. Enjoy!

Don't know if black friday is as big a deal in other places as it is here, but stay safe guys! I went out this morning for breakfast and was nearly hit by distracted drivers on three separate occasions. Please remember to keep your cool and to be kind to the folks in the service industry. Happy holidays!


	12. Chapter 12

Cassiopeia

Chapter 12

* * *

Jazz ducked down, head disappearing into a cupboard located near the back of the RV. There, they had stashed numerous, and he meant NUMEROUS, medical supplies and first aid kits. There was probably enough equipment back there to put some smaller hospitals to shame.

Gauze, antiseptic wipes, prescription strength antibiotics (purchased through the black market…), aspirin, acetaminophen, prescription strength opioids (again… black market), subcutaneous fluids, ace bandages, a travel suture pack (homemade; glowed a soothing green color in the dark), and innumerable syringes.

All these supplies piled up in neat heaps as Jazz dug around. This struck Jack as odd. All of the items she was securing were for human use only. Phantom's biology couldn't possibly benefit from the vast majority of the items she was securing. He was tired, though. So, thoroughly tired. He hadn't slept properly in days, and he was the sole person responsible for piloting the RV. He didn't have much fight left in him, so he let her do as she pleased.

 _She'll do what'll make her feel better._

Phantom was watching Jack expectantly. What was it waiting for? Its half-lidded stare was heavy, making the man's skin crawl with anxiety.

"Got it!" Jazz resurfaced lugging a bunch of coiled tubes and some IV bags of sterilized fluids. At Jack's questioning gaze, she explained, "he said he was held captive with no water. Some fluids should help along his metabolism." Phantom made a ''stop' motion with his hand, eyes widening as Jack's daughter spoke. "In short, he's dehydrated." She wasted no time hanging the bag of fluids to a hook on the ceiling, letting the coiled tubes fall and decorate the small room.

"Dehydrated?" Jack echoed. He wasn't so much surprised or confused anymore. He had come to accept that he was just going to be lost.

Jazz's eyes flicked to him momentarily as she worked. "I'll explain!" Her answer was too quick, voice pitching like it does when she's flustered… or when she's lying. "Uhh- you know how… how ghosts sorta- make their own rules?" She was unwinding the tubes and draping them along seams and outcroppings in the wall. "This one- uhm…" She and Phantom shared a look. "This one has human needs." The ghost flinched at the declaration.

Jack's daughter was sputtering, stringing together words so fast and choppily that Jack couldn't really understand them. He wondered if she could even hear how ridiculous she was sounding. Human needs? That would imply a human body. Phantom wasn't human, so he couldn't have human needs…

But Phantom's wide eyed stare was turning into a weak glare. It was as though the ghost didn't want Jack to know this information. Why would a lie like this be a secret… unless it were the truth?

 _Phantom… needs water?_

"Soooo," Jack drawled, taking an experimental step forward. Phantom nearly jumped. "The ghost kid needs to be rehydrated?"

Jazz watched Jack with an indecipherable expression as she unwrapped a needle.

"... and you know this how?"

She straightened, flashing a desperate look at Phantom who was currently shaking his head no at her. "Uh- uhm…" she stuttered, "I might, maybe, kind of… talk to Phantom?" Phantom groaned, looking to the ceiling as if in silent prayer.

Flabbergasted, Jack felt his jaw go slack. "You talk to Phantom!?" His daughter was withholding secrets… Dangerous ones? Concerning ghosts? He couldn't help the cold glare that he shot at the ghost kid. What was this thing telling her?

"Yeah," she admitted. Phantom was giving her a panic stricken, pleading look. Whatever Jazz was spilling, Phantom didn't want Jack to know. "We talk… semi-regularly."

With shaking hands, she finally removed the paper wrapping from the needle. Sizing up Phantom's exposed arm, the one that looked pretty bad, she tsked. "Can't use this one," she mumbled. "Can you sit up? I need your other arm."

Suddenly timid, Phantom nodded in the affirmative. There was a nervous energy about the ghost as he took her offered hand. He mouthed something to Jazz, to which she shook her head, easing some of his tensions. Only some though. His eyes kept darting towards Jack. His jaw kept clenching. Jack had the suspicion that if he could, the ghost boy would have escaped the first chance he got.

Brow creased, face flushed, the ghost heaved the majority of his weight upwards as Jack's daughter helped support him. She guided him carefully, avoiding contact with his numerous visible injuries. When he was finally upright, he leaned heavily against the armrest, panting like he had ran a marathon.

"Almost there-" Jazz soothed as she pushed his head back against the headrest.

Phantom coughed roughly, ectoplasm frothing at his lips. "... gon- na… faint…" No sooner had he whispered the words, did his head lull to the side. With his strange eyes shut and his aura next to nothing, Phantom appeared disturbingly human. He was a small, frail boy matted with filth and abrasions, slouched at an impossibly uncomfortable angle on the couch. To say that the picture didn't stir some empathy in the older man would have been a lie.

Jazz made a panicky noise and quickly removed Phantom's glove. His hands were pale, coated with human skin. No grotesque claws or scaly skin like Jack had half-suspected. "Scissors! I need scissors."

Snapping to attention, Jack pulled his wits back about him. Jazz having a supernatural social life was a smack in the face. He didn't trust Phantom, not after working with him. The ghost was elusive, tricky, uncooperative. He didn't come through the first time he promised to help save Jack's family. How would this time be any different.

Nevertheless, he did what he was told, depositing a pair of Fenton brand scissors in her hands.

Black fell away as Jazz cut through the thick material of Phantom's suit. If she was exposing his arm to administer the IV… then that meant that Phantom had veins? Jack huddled closer, curiosity getting the better of his suspicions. All the ghosts he examined had no such structure. Below the skin, they were all fluid. There was simply no need for a circulatory system.

Sleeve neatly removed, Jazz recycled the rubbery fabric to use as a tourniquet. The knot she tied was professional, effortless. There was a small spur of pride as Jack recalled their apocalypse training. His Jazzy-pants was the simply the best Fenton for medicine. Sometimes, he half wondered why she was more interested in psychology than medicine.

His daughter speedily reclaimed the needle, inspecting the bruised surface of Phantom's arm. Jack watched closely, observing the way the flesh moved and didn't move. For a ghost, Phantom had strict limitations on how its body was manifested. The meat of his arm was pliable, but not amorphous. There was some sort of imitated musculature below the epidermal layer.

 _Interesting..._

"He's gotten himself so banged up." Jazz sounded dismayed. Worried with a hint of guilt and fear. She scrubbed roughly at her eyes before she plunged the needle into his arm. The mechanism clicked, releasing the catheter from the needle. She pressed down, removed the needle, and taped the tube to the ghost's arm. Red, watery ectoplasm beaded at the entry point.

 _Strange. That doesn't look like ectoplasm._

Satisfied with her work, she hastily flushed the tubes and connected it to Phantom's IV port, removing the tourniquet in one smooth action. With some cotton gauze, she wiped the entry site. Addressing Jack, she continued, "I've talked to him. He's a good kid." Using the sleeve of her jacket, she wiped clean some of the grit from the ghost's face. "Troubled like any teenager, but a good kid." She was calm, slipping into her usual hyper-focused state of mind. "He is- an exception among the ghost community."

This was a new side of Jazz, one that Jack wasn't very familiar with. Was her relationship with Phantom one of the driving points of her recent interest in ghosts? Just what were his children up to when he wasn't watching?

 _What is my baby girl getting into!?_

Face relatively clean, she moved onto Phantom's shoulders, unzipping the top of his suit slightly and placing compresses over the mirrored wounds. "I really wish he wouldn't get so hurt all the time, though. It'd be nice if he exercised some self-preservation."

 _The first theory of ghosts: To continually avoid the silence of death, a ghost must structure its routine around self-preservation and denial of the present._

Jack cautiously placed a hand on her shoulder. As a parent, as a father, he knew he needed to support Jazz. He couldn't leave her alone in this. His paternal instincts were pushing him forward, but…

His intuition as a ghost hunter and researcher kept telling him that Phantom was strong. Strong and without any real trustworthiness. This ghost's past proved that. Why then, did Jazz seek out his companionship?

Mere minutes had passed, and the bag of fluids was already nearly drained. There was no reason. The liquid only entered at its own pace, and yet only half of the bag remained. Already, Phantom's skin was regaining its usual color, and the smaller wounds were closing. Static began to prick at Jack's exposed skin, further reminding him of the inhuman nature of the boy.

"How long until he wakes up?" As it was, they were on borrowed time already. The longer they waited, the farther they got from finding Madds.

Jazz brushed her hair over her bruised eye, flashing her father a brief, strained smile. "Not too long… hopefully. He doesn't stay down for long in this form… but." She shrugged, voice dipping as though she held in a sob. "But I've never seen him this bad."

 _Never seen him this bad? Just how friendly with Phantom is she?_

Jack scratched his chin, trying desperately to ignore his body's want to remove his daughter from this scene. Phantom wasn't a danger right now. The Red Huntress confirmed that. He could indulge his daughter for the time being and not have to worry about her safety. His body itched with a fidgety need, so he picked at a tear in his sleeve.

 _Keep her talking._

"Do you… do this often? For the ghost kid?"

His daughter shook her head, hair whipping. "Actually, no. He's only done it himself like two times before." She smirked, grinning at some rueful memories. "He's always been stubborn about it, actually. I think it makes him think he's cool if he does everything himself."

 _Well, that explains the missing supplies that Madds noticed._

The familiarity Jazz continually expressed was nerve wracking. Still though, the more information, the better. He could figure out what to do about the situation later when he had all the facts… and maybe an hour or two of sleep.

When Phantom's shoulders stopped bleeding, Jazz began to inspect the laceration on the ghost's arm. The wound looked bad, even to Jack's inexperienced eye. She picked at the flaking fabric, grimacing when it freely fell away. "That can't be good."

Jack agreed. That injury appeared strangely mortal. If he was going to be honest with himself, the imitated flesh seemed almost necrotic; the cracked, dry skin looked like it was about ready to slough off at any minute. A strange stench hung in the air like rotten oranges.

Even in this unconscious state, Phantom's face twitched as Jazz examined the wound. "It's," she shook some more of the ashy material from her fingers, "not healing? Dad! What does it mean when it's not healing!?"

Stunned, Jack just stared at the wound. It was terrible looking, age and rot distinguishing it from the other readily healing wounds. But, it had to be faked in some way. Ghost flesh simply did not rot away… There was no known decomposer for ectoplasm. The material was just too volatile for earthly creatures (fungus, bacteria, etc) to sustain themselves on it.

Jack winced as Jazz whipped her attention back to him. Her hand gripped Phantom's with a feather-light touch. "Dad?" Her voice was pleading. Did she want him to look at it?

 _What am I doing?_

Still dazed, the man crouched next to his daughter, ignoring the slippery puddle of ectoplasm on the floor. At his daughter's command, he took the ghost's arm in his hands. Phantom was comparatively small and lanky; Jack's hand nearly swallowed the appendage. It reminded him of fragility, how small the boy's arm was.

It was jointed. Some bone structure rested beneath the muscle. Jazz struggled to cut away at the other sleeve as Jack rolled the joints in Phantom's shoulder and elbow. It was amazing, simply put, how well the bone worked. He had never had the chance to observe something as complex as Phantom was.

 _Maybe… Jazz has a point, then?_

He hummed thoughtfully to himself. Ghost hunter mode was quickly fading into scientist mode. Ghosts healed almost automatically once given the proper environment. For Phantom, considering that he needed fluids, his 'environment' must be simulated on the inside of his body. If given the proper treatment, the wound should heal naturally like the others were… but it was not.

Then, that meant, there was some outside interference here. Something was actively preventing Phantom's ectoplasm from adhering to itself. Gently prodding the area, Jack also took note of the stark difference in texture. Where Phantom's healthy body was malleable, the area about the wound was stiff… almost as though the ectoplasm was congealing…

Jazz had given up attempting to maneuver around Jack's oversized hands, and instead was staring wide-eyed. "What do you think? Can we fix it?" She was clutching the scissors so hard her knuckles were turning white.

"I don't know," Jack mumbled. "His arm is experiencing some sort of interference… though from what… I'm not sure." Congealed ectoplasm was unheard of. In all his years of research, he'd never encountered it. "This is-" Jack paused, suddenly getting a whiff of a very familiar stench as he accidentally fractured some of the fragile skin.

The arm was quickly pulled out of Jack's light grasp by Phantom, face contorted into a pained grimace even in his sleep. The ghost whimpered softly, aura suddenly growing brighter and brighter. The last thing Jack could see before he was blinded was Jazz panicking. "Phantom! Phantom, don't do it!" she yelled, as Jack's mind spun.

He had injured Phantom, however inadvertently. The man's skin crawled as the ghost's spectral aura continually climbed in intensity. This could be some sort of… automatic defense? From the look on Jazz's face, he could only assume that she had encountered it before. And whatever it was, it was bad.

The light faded as fast as it had come, aura condensing into a small ring around the ghost's waist.

 _Here it comes!_

"Oof-." With unexpected speed, Jack wrenched Jazz away from the ghost. She choked briefly as the air was knocked from her lungs. He hugged his daughter, shielding her from the impending blast. The GAV's alarms blared urgently in the background.

In a morbid fascination, Jack watched as the aura sprung from Phantom's waist in a spectacular show of light. Then, as though it had ran out of batteries, the resulting ring warped like the light from an old television set, kinking over itself and eventually fizzling out.

Jazz finally managed to wriggle free enough to speak. "Dad! Whatever you see, I can explain."

The Red Huntress chose that moment to kick back open the door, brandishing a beeping wrist. "Just got a fresh reading on the ghost kid!" Her head swiveled, spotting the medical supplies. "Guess he's feeling better."

The ghost in question grimaced and shifted. "Owww," he complained. He curled in on himself, only looking slightly surprised by the IV in his arm. The bag was now three quarters gone. There was an apprehension to his expression as he scanned the faces staring back at him.

There was an understanding, too, as his eyes fell to rest on the GAV center console behind Jack. It was as if he was familiar with the defensive systems. The anxious glance to the fork above him wasn't quite quick enough to go unnoticed. Slowly, he raised his hands, the injured one coming to rest lower than his good one.

Jack was frozen in place. The Red Huntress crossed her arms, shoulder cannon aimed at Phantom. Jazz was struggling against her father's grip. She was still stuck, unable to see the back of the RV. Jack wasn't about to let her go any time soon, too. The readings on his dash were showing a sharp increase in the ghost's spectral field. He was recovered, and fully capable of wreaking havoc.

They stared each other down. Each person was here for their own purposes. Phantom against his will. The Red Huntress, to hunt down Phantom. Jack and Jazz, to find Maddie.

They were on shaky terms to begin with. There was very little cooperation, and if the huntress was difficult to work with, then Phantom would be ten times as so.

Finally, the Red Huntress broke the silence. "Hands down, Phantom," she grunted, chin pointing up. Jack got the impression that she was looking down her nose at the boy on the couch. He glared back at her, equally strong willed.

They were having some silent conversation, one that Jack couldn't follow. After some time, Phantom nodded in some unspoken acknowledgement as he shakily complied, lowering his hands to his lap. "Did you see Spectra down there?" He was addressing the huntress, voice rough with exhaustion.

"I don't know your accomplices, ghost kid-"

Static flared as Phantom bared his teeth angrily. "Black ghost. Bad attitude. Too many teeth, and a nasty temper." He had thrown his good arm in the air, frustrated. "Oh, and she is definitely one of my 'accomplices.' I love getting my butt handed to me." He was air quoting the word, sarcasm dripping from his tone. Voice sobering, he appended, "I think she has M- Maddie."

Jazz forced herself upwards so that she could see over Jack's shoulder. "Spectra has Mom?"

Phantom's attention switched to her, frustration melting away. "Yeah. She only gloated about it, like, a million times." He turned again back to the huntress, eyebrows falling into a scowl. "Ring any bells?"

The huntress huffed, the air of her breath clipping loudly through the speaker. "Does this ghost have red eyes?"

Phantom nodded.

"Shot at her a few times, and she took off running." The huntress shifted her stance, to something more casual and unbothered. "Almost like some other ghost that I know."

Phantom shot into a standing position. "I am _nothing_ like her!"

"Woah." From seemingly nowhere, the Red Huntress had acquired yet another live piece of weaponry. The barrel was practically resting on Phantom's fore-head as the ghost's eyes crossed in surprise."No sudden movements, ghost kid."

It looked like Phantom wanted to say something in retort, but he bit his tongue. He sat back down, muscles visibly shaking with the effort of keeping him upright.

"Good." The huntress holstered the weapon. "You're as good as trapped, ghost. Don't get any funny ideas."

"You got to be kidding me." He gestured to himself. "Do you even see the state I'm in? I'm so messed up right now I can barely see straight."

The Red Huntress leaned forward, suit whirring like an angry hornet. "You'll be worse off if you try any funny business, ghost."

"Fine." He was glaring again, aura sparking harmlessly as though it was trying to kick start itself.

"Oh-ho-hokay," With one last burst of effort, Jazz wrenched herself out of Jack's grasp, hopping between the huntress and Phantom. "Let's just focus on finding Mom." Her focus shifted to Phantom first, eyes baring a strict seriousness.

"Don't tell me that. Tell her!"

Jazz turned, lips pressed in a thin line. Jack was astonished by the strength behind her stance. There was a certain, unwavering determination as she unflinching interacted with the heavily armed huntress. Her eyebrow quirked expectantly. "Well?"

The huntress held her ground, but retracted the shoulder cannon. From a side compartment, she produced a pair of handcuffs. "Fine. He has to wear these though."

Phantom leaned over to look at them. "Standard anti-phase?"

The huntress nodded.

"You do realize that I literally cannot go intangible right now."

The huntress remained silent, only moving to thrust the cuffs forward.

"Fine." Phantom reluctantly agreed. "But Jazz puts them on. You always put them on _way_ too tight." The ghost looked almost bored as Jazz fastened the cuffs to his wrists. He waved his hands, clinking his wrists together pointedly. "Happy now?"

"Marginally."

"You're impossible."

Jack had to admit, he did feel safer with Phantom restrained. But, however interesting it was, he wasn't here to watch these strangers bicker. "You said someone had Maddie?"

"Yeah." Phantom broke from his starring contest, averting his attention to Jack. "As I was saying," he shot the huntress a meaningful glare, "Spectra kept gloating about having Maddie tied up somewhere." He shook his head disappointingly. "And she's not one to lie. She has to have her."

"And this Spectra is a ghost?" Jack asked.

"Yeah." Phantom scowled thoughtfully as he took note of his surroundings. "Crud. This is bad." He looked around. "You're hurt," he said, indicating to Jack. "And you're hurt, too." He said this gesturing to Jazz. He turned to the Red Huntress. "You're low on power, and I'm handicapped." He covered his face with his hands and groaned to the ceiling. "This is the worst."

"Is Madds," Jack swallowed, nervous now that all attention was on him. He felt really out of the loop here. These three were interacting as though they knew each other well. Here, he was the outsider. "Is she safe?"

Lips pursed, the ghost seemed to think about this a little bit before he answered. "Spectra mentioned something about Mo-", he cleared his throat, "Maddie fighting against her." He massaged his arm. "I think she might be okay now, physically at least. Mentally, well, that depends on how well she can hold back Spectra's influence."

Jack took the news in stride, holding back a holler of joy at finding out that Maddie was alright. "What do you mean by hold her back?" he prompted. Madds was tough. She could take down anyone. Not even a ghost could get to her.

Phantom leveled a look at him that was almost pitying, sending Jack's confidence straight to the dumps. "Spectra doesn't normally fight with physical violence. She has a nastier method of getting what she wants." He flexed his shoulder, the flesh of which was still healing over. Jazz was spot on with that IV. Apparently, Phantom could get dehydrated. "Though she is very capable of fighting, she doesn't like to do it."

"Could've fooled me," The huntress chimed in. "That ghost was all teeth and claws when I found you."

Phantom nodded, visibly suppressing a shudder. "Yeah, surprised me too. Word to the wise," he turned to address Jack, "don't make Spectra angry. You wouldn't think she could do much, but she's surprisingly strong in a fight." The ghost rocked backwards into the seat, heaving a long defeated sigh. "Definitely gonna recommend against it." He pulled his injured arm to his chest, eyes closing as he fought against some fatigue.

This is where Jazz (his precious little Jazz!) picked up. Giving one last worried glance at the ghost kid, she turned and inspected the available supplies. "Spectra is a ghost with two appearances," Jazz continued almost guiltily. "She has a human form and a ghost form." Phantom winced as Jazz shot him an apologetic look. "From what I can gather, both forms are equally powerful, but the human form requires some sustenance to maintain."

"She feeds on emotion," Phantom spoke, voice gravelly with spent emotion. "Anything negative. Guilt, fear, anger-"

"Depression," Jazz added.

Phantom looked sad, but nodded in agreement. "Depression is the big one." He rubbed his face tiredly. "Once she finds out how to get what she wants, she's ruthless. She'll target anyone and anything."

"Didn't she have an assistant, too?" Jazz asked. She had returned to the ghost's side, tossing rolls of gauze into the growing pile.

"Bertrand?" Phantom blanched, curling in on himself almost protectively. "No, some other ghost got him. Shot him with the Fenton Disintegrator multiple times." A shudder wracked the ghost's thin form. "Bertrand didn't stand a chance."

So, Jazz knew Phantom. Jack supposed he could somewhat take that news in stride. Phantom wasn't necessarily his number one target anymore, not since the ghost had grown more publicized. He only showed up rarely, and only to harass other ghosts. Phantom himself didn't seem to really care to bother humans… not anymore anyway.

However, Jazz knowing this other ghost, one that was apparently super dangerous with a history of attacking humans, well, that did not sit well AT ALL. Jack was the ghost hunter. Not his daughter. He was the person who was supposed to be the protecting her from things like this Spectra ghost. Yet, here he was, only alive because his little princess had decided to take a small vacation and pay him a visit.

Jack was beginning to grow dizzy. This was too much to take in on a good day. On a day like this, the information overload was almost sadistic. To keep from toppling with vertigo, the man dropped himself into a seat adjacent to where his daughter was crouched on the floor.

Tiredly, he watched his daughter swat Phantom's hands from the IV. They interacted well together. Jazz must have met him early on… possibly even before the whole 'kidnapping the mayor' business. What on earth could she be thinking, consorting with someone like Phantom.

Apparently unable to take being silent any longer, the Red Huntress punched her palm violently. "So, if I get Spectra, then we find Mrs. Fenton?"

Phantom looked up at her from his seat. "That's the idea, I guess." Then, Phantom's face turned a little bit scornful. "Wait, do you mean you go and get her? As in: you, yourself, and Val?" He shook his head. "Nuh-uh. Not gonna let that happen."

Predictably, the huntress took offense to that. "It's not a matter of whether or not you'll 'let me.' You couldn't stop me if you wanted to!" In a fit of annoyance, she was pointing accusingly at the ghost as he tiredly ignored her.

 _Hey! I could help with that!_

Jack jumped up, suddenly eager. He needed something to do, something productive. Just sitting around was killing him. "What if I went in with her?"

All eyes were on him again, and Jack suddenly felt kind of small. It was a ridiculous feeling considering his size, but he felt it nonetheless.

"Uh no offense, but you're kinda-," Phantom started before he was cut off.

"YOU?" The huntress laughed condescendingly, throwing Jack into a thoroughly foul mood. "You'll just slow me down." She adjusted her pose haughtily. "I'm the one with the fire power, here. You just drive the car."

"I was gonna say hurt, but sure." Phantom droned off in the background. "Go ahead and piss off the only guy offering to help you. Seems to be what you like to do anyway."

"Can it, Phantom."

Phantom was standing again, staring down the huntress eye to eye. "Are you suicidal? Is that it? Do you want to get captured? Look at us!" He swept his good arm, dragging along the other one by the cuff and wincing. "None of us are capable of holding our own now." He sat, or rather fell, back into his seat. "I suggest we rest for the day and regroup at night. By then, your core will have some time to charge, and my core will have some time to charge." His body was shivering now, sweat beading on his forehead. "We're at a disadvantage right now. Going back is crazy."

Jack sat back down in his seat. Now that Phantom had pointed it out, resting for the day did seem strategically favorable. If Spectra could do that kind of number on Phantom, Jack wasn't really ready to find out what she could do to him… or the huntress for that matter, however uncooperative she was.

"I agree with Phantom." Jazz piped up.

"Thank you," Phantom sounded exasperated. "Someone with some sense. Finally."

The huntress seemed peeved. The hackles of her armor raised and shimmered in the morning light that filtered through the windows. She whipped around, black visor facing towards Jack. Her attention was lively, buzzing with frequencies that were too high to be heard. It put the an a little on edge, more so than Phantom's humming aura.

"Drive back," the huntress ordered.

"Don't do it!" Phantom immediately argued. He leaned forward, eyes locking onto Jack's. "Think about it. If Val was really ready to take down these jokers, she'd already be on her jet sled, speeding off into the sunset."

"Sunrise, actually," Jazz corrected.

"Whatever." Phantom waved dismissively. "My point is, if she could, she'd be gone." He turned to face the huntress. Her suit buzzed threateningly. "Face it. You're out of battery. Even I can tell." He relaxed back into the couch, exhausted again. "And trust me. If I can tell, then Spectra can too. She won't go easy on you just because you're human."

"I think," Jack said, eyes bouncing between the ghost and the ghost hunter, "I'm siding with Phantom on this one…" It was time to be honest. Even if Maddie was back in that house, they'd be too under powered to get her out. He was tired. Jazz was in okay shape, but she had taken a rather sharp hit to the head a few days ago. She could use the time to rest too. The Red Huntress had to understand that. They were only human. They could only go for so long without basic self care.

"Yes! Thank you." He turned to the huntress. "Now, that's two people with some sense in their skulls." Smirking, he added, "majority rules. My plan beats yours three to one." He slouched, crossing his legs with an egotistical expression. "Rest it is, then."

The huntress was silent for some time, presumably steaming from the clear prod from Phantom. Jack had to admit, the ghost kid was ballsy. Even Jack himself didn't have the gall to harass the huntress, and he could at least stand.

Slowly, the buzz in the red armor started to quiet as the Red Huntress took some very deep breaths. Phantom was quickly tiring too. His face had gone slack as he reclined back. Their rivalry, however strong, was quickly burning out as both parties were thoroughly exhausted. Wordlessly, the huntress exited the RV, presumably to either let off some steam or to rest somewhere. She was… how to put it nicely… a _passionate_ person. Jack really didn't know how to handle her sort of personality. She was difficult to get along with. Maybe some alone time would steady her nerves.

* * *

A/N: Long chapter! Yay.

There are a few more established characters added into the roster, now. Writing them is a fun and challenging experience. Sometimes I write them as too easy-going and cooperative. Sometimes I write them too confrontational. It's difficult to remove how I want the story to go from how the characters should make the story go.

Hopefully, after a couple rewrites, I've pegged their personalities in this chapter. The first draft had everyone readily working together... which just didn't seem natural to me ((though it would have been really convenient in terms of forced plot progression)). I had to put myself in everyone's shoes to get this chapter put together. In the end, I had a lot of fun writing it, and if anything, I feel like I've progressed my understanding of character chemistry.

... Gotta be careful with those pronouns... It's too easy to overuse them now with this many active characters in one place.

And I've fallen behind in the review acknowledgements! Oh no!

Thank you to Invader Johnny, MonsterousThings, and FiveRivers for reviewing. It's always nice to wake up to those little notification emails. Always puts a little smile on my face and helps the working day go by. Thank you guys so much! :) I'm glad you're enjoying this story.


	13. Chapter 13

Cassiopeia

Chapter 13

* * *

After that phone call ended, Maddie did about the only thing she could think to do… _run._ She sped through the grandiose lobby and back into her room. Except it wasn't _her_ room. This wasn't her bed. Not her dresser. Not her house. And there was no Jack here waiting to comfort her.

She was shaken to say the least. She _hated_ not knowing what to do, where to go. She needed time to think and get her head on straight, so she starting pacing. The directions were manic and meandering, speed changing with each turn in her head. She was stuck in the maze of her own mind, feet merely mirroring the paths that remained open to her.

Her hands fiddled with the lock on the door knob. She had checked it numerous times now, but she still wanted to make absolutely sure it was locked…

 _Locked doors would do nothing against Spectra…_

But, she argued, it would keep Vlad out, and right now she supposed that was just as good.

Her feet worked in a dizzying frenzy, sending her back and forth across the room as she paced.

 _What was that call about? That was, without a doubt, Vlad. And Spectra. Consorting? About a woman?_

She reached a wall and turned almost automatically.

 _The only woman I know of that's here is me._

Chills ran up and down her spine. The only woman here was her! They were talking about her! She took a breath and decided to tally the things she thought stood out to her as abnormal.

 _Spectra, a ghost, broke into my house, a house of ghost hunters. Easily too. Almost as though it was an inside job… Vlad had called their home phone the night before._

Pause. That was suspicious. That was REALLY suspicious… What did she tell him again? Her foot rested just above the carpet, frozen in mid step as her mind tried desperately to remember.

She remembered that Vlad had sounded concerned. He asked her if everything was alright, if she was feeling well… UGH! That was definitely fishing for information! How did she not see it before!? Frustrated, her feet picked back up where she left off, storming their own way to and fro.

She didn't recall saying anything incriminating to him… but that fact that he had called her at all was far too suspicious to be mere coincidence. And Spectra… what did Spectra have to do with this? Was she only a tool to Vlad? They didn't sound to be on particularly friendly terms from what she could gather from the phone call.

…

What exactly did Spectra expect to encounter in her home? From the looks of things, Phantom was probably collateral damage. Maddie had, without a doubt in her mind, determined that she was Spectra's true target… But, that didn't make any sense? Phantom always, always, ALWAYS, showed up where other ghosts were. Spectra should have expected him to show up again…

Unless, she somehow knew that Phantom had been shot the night before?

Did Spectra assume that Phantom wouldn't make a grand appearance because he was injured? Or maybe, she assumed that even if he did, he wouldn't be able to put up much of a fight. But how did she know that Phantom was injured in the first place? Even Jack didn't know that she landed a hit on Phantom.

Vlad couldn't have told her. He couldn't have known…

She scrubbed roughly at her hair and rubbed at her eyes. Maybe Vlad wasn't as involved as she was imagining, then?

 _No. He is definitely involved._

She shook herself, wringing her hands out with nervous energy which only mounted and built upon itself. There was simply no other way to explain not only the convenient coincidence of him finding her, but also that phone call. In fact, now that she had a much clearer head, she doubted that she had been found by the police at all. The coincidences were just far too convenient to be anything but _a perfectly planned coincidence_.

Huh. A perfectly planned coincidence. Her son had coined that term the first time she was accosted by her old college friend. Then, she just thought he was being over dramatic. Now, she knew exactly what he meant. Some pride swelled in her chest as she understood just how good a judge of character her son was. She did such a good job raising him.

Anyway, that was off topic… but somehow thinking of Danny didn't feel so off topic. She supposed it was maybe some remorse and delirium induced from missing her family so much.

 _I want to go home_.

She felt ridiculous for thinking that. For feeling homesick. This wasn't her first time away from home. She wasn't ten years old, away from her parents for her first day of girl scouts. She was a full grown adult! And yet she felt so terribly homesick.

Except, whenever she acted on the desire to return home, she would suffer a panic attack. She wasn't stupid. Slow, maybe. Oblivious even. But now that she had experienced it enough times, she was able to discern the cause to be her desire to return home. Why? If she felt so homesick, why would the thought of returning home make her panic more that the thought of staying away.

Even now, even just mulling over the memory of wanting to call Jack, she could feel some dark energy curl and stab her with prickling needles. There was something within her that would simply not allow her to go home. Not without making her suffer, at least. The feeling was dark, moody, cold and miserable. Inexplicably, it reminded her of Spectra's own horrific and predatory aura.

 _Can Spectra still influence me, even from this range?_

Yes! That made sense! These feelings against her family were not hers! They could affect her like her own emotions, but the were not hers. Relief welled up at the realization. She was not going crazy. She was being manipulated. Spectra practically said so in that phone call.

Just how much could Spectra influence her? How many of her thoughts were hers and how many were from that ghost?

 _Do I actually fear going home? Or is that Spectra?_

Her eyes wandered to one of the many mirrors decorating the room.

 _Do I really hate what I am? Or is that Spectra?_

Her fingers, bare and sorely missing the comfort of her usual gloves, reached out as if to touch her reflection.

 _Will Jack really hate me? Or is this all Spectra?_

Unwilling to mull over that subject for much longer, she pulled away from her reflection and returned to her abuse of the carpeting. No matter how she framed it in her mind, she was unable to separate Spectra's influence from her own intuition, and she was beginning to fear aggravating that small, dark pit that was threatening to explode again.

She hugged herself, suddenly aware of the niggling dread that lingered in the air. Chills began running up and down her arms, and she swore that she heard distant fighting and yelling. Or maybe she was getting paranoid? Or maybe this was part of Spectra's trickery? Or maybe the staff that Vlad had mentioned were simply starting work and being noisy?

This was too much. All the time, this was just far too much. All she wanted, all she needed was some time alone to sort herself out. Buta at every turn, there was some other conspiracy staring her in the face. Why now of all times?

Frustrated, she threw her hands up in a spur of anger, but the motion didn't stop at her arms. It pulled at something intangible, barely understandable to her own mind, and the twin rings of her own damnation sprung to life. They traversed her body, bringing with them some strange comfort amongst the disorientation. Despite how much she hated herself for it, she did enjoy the uplifting weightlessness and strength that flooded her limbs, even at the cost of her appearance.

From her peripheral, she caught two red eyes peering out from the dark. Spectra! Immediately, she whirled around, only to find that the two eyes were her own mirrored reflection. Quickly, she saved herself the torture of viewing her own face. She knew all too well what she would see there, and none of it was Madeline Fenton.

 _Okay. I'm okay. I'm just a little freaked out is all._

So she returned to her pacing. Her current body supplied far more energy than she could ever hope to burn, and her legs were spurred on by a nervous vigor. Detached, she watched her feet pace, glad to see that she was at least properly clothed now. Her jumpsuit, now orange and spectral, was so much better than that horrid bathrobe.

The distant noises were now long faded, replaced with a lonely void of silence. The heater hummed and whirled, but that was about it. The house was far too big to be populated by only two people. Maddie began to wonder how Vlad could stand the empty vastness.

Outside her window, crickets began to chirp as the sun nestled itself in the limbs of the tall pine trees. Maddie allowed herself the time to watch it, to watch the sky morph from day to night. It was beautiful, changing from a cool evening blue to a fiery orange. Clouds stood stark and jagged against the sky as stars began to slowly introduce themselves.

It was calm. Peaceful. For a moment, she nearly forgot her current situation. That is, until that situation made itself imminently known that it would not be ignored.

Unbidden, a knock rapped against the solid oak of her door, the uninvited sound of it nearly making her jump out of her own skin.

"Maddie, dearest. You've held yourself up in there for long enough. Why don't you come out and spend the evening with me?"

 _Ugh. Vlad again._

Maddie jutted her jaw stubbornly, only barely aware that this caused her new teeth to grind against each other disconcertingly.

 _The door will hold. He can't get to me in here._

So she ignored him, content to just sit there and sort through her feelings without company. But luck wouldn't leave her be. Vlad was terrible at reading social cues. Always had been. He knocked again, this time a little bit louder. "Maddie? Are you in there?"

 _Duh. Where else would I be?_

Getting a little anxious, she pushed herself back up onto her feet, mouth set in a frown. She debated the merits of answering, if only to tell him to leave, but decided that remaining silent might be better for the moment. She was really not in the mood to deal with him now, and she was afraid that she might do something brash.

She didn't have to wait long for Vlad to knock a third time, this time pounding the door with the butt of his fist. "Maddie! You are in no place to refuse me." He spoke as if it was matter of fact. Maybe it was. She supposed refusing his offers of company would have been difficult before, but now, after knowing he was working alongside ghosts, it was easy. "If you do not come out on your own, then I will come in myself." His voice deepened to a threat. "Do not make me come in there."

Maddie scoffed, incredulous by the demanding nature. As far as she was concerned, Vlad could spend every evening by himself.

The doorknob jostled fruitlessly, and Maddie had to forcibly stifle a bout of anger. How dare he actually try to enter her room without invitation!? "Maddie, you will open this door this instant!"

"Or what!?" She yelled back, anger and frustration getting the better of her. She knew that responding would just encourage him, but she was getting very sick of hearing his voice demand and plead things of her.

"Or you will face my ire, woman!" The door knob continued to rattle in its metal cage, and she heard a foot kick at the base of the door.

That made Maddie smirk. Vlad angry? Now that was something that did not scare her in the least. He was scrawny, spoiled, and lacking in self discipline. She could easily take him in her worst of days. And now, with the addition of this newfound intangibility power, she was nigh invincible.

"Leave, Vlad." She growled the words through clenched teeth. "I want my clothes back. I want out of this house. And I want nothing to do with you."

Silence stretched from beyond the wooden barrier. Then laughter. Vlad was laughing? "Maddie," he breathed, "you do not get a choice in this." She could imagine the calculating grin on his face. "I have certain leverages at my disposal that I'd hate to use against you, my love." His fingers rapped against the wood. "But make no mistake, I will if you make me."

Stoic, Maddie remained unmoved by that sentiment. She was well aware of his partnership with Spectra. She wouldn't allow him to hold that over her as some sort of ill-veiled threat. She would not allow herself to fall victim any more than she already had.

"I wonder," Vlad continued when it became clear to him that Maddie wouldn't budge, "what sort of uproar I could cause if I were to… oh, I don't know… anonymously place your lab work up for bid. I wonder what were to happen to you if someone accidentally came across your *ahem* blood."

Stricken with raw realization, Maddie straightened her back against an invisible force of anxiety. _He wouldn't,_ Maddie tried to reason with herself. The world simply was not ready for a scientific breakthrough of the paranormal sort. Especially not one that acted like a virus, infecting the host with ghostly attributes. The public would panic, and she would be ground zero.

Then, Maddie understood the invitation lying just beneath the threat. She could leave _if_ she beat Vlad at his own game. If she removed the blackmail material from Vlad's possession, he'd have no ammunition against her. All she had to do was find and neutralize the threat of exposure.

"I wonder… who would be the first to buy? The GiW, maybe? Fentonworks? Who knows."

"You're filthy," she hissed.

"Perhaps," Vlad agreed with irritating sincerity. "But you will learn to appreciate my tactics over time."

"Leave me now!" Maddie snarled. She would not be puppeteered by Vlad of all people.

"No!" Vlad's voice was strict and certain, baring no room for leeway. "You _will_ join me."

Something snapped within Maddie, and she threw open the door. Never did she consider herself to be short of temper, but Vlad was pushing her way too far, and she was _angry_.

The door swung outwards violently, striking her host with a satisfying crack that resounded along the polished marble lining the long hallway. He recovered faster than Maddie expected, only to find himself toe-to-toe with one irate Madeline Fenton.

And only now did she remember how she appeared: monstrous.

Almost self-consciously, she pushed her goggles over her eyes. No use in advertising her inner turmoils, and she did much prefer the cool protection of her welding lenses. Thick as they were, she hoped they were enough to obscure the glow of her eyes. Oh, how she loathed the idea of bearing unnatural eyes to the world.

And, just as she was thinking that, something unnatural flashed behind the blue of Vlad's own eyes. Or maybe she imagined it. Or maybe she didn't. Or maybe Spectra could somehow project hallucinations on her environment. Maybe this was all a hallucination, and once dispelled, she would find that this was all just some overly complicated fever dream. That would be a very nice, very convenient scapegoat for this all.

Vlad brushed off his immaculate clothes, snapping Maddie out of her reverie. He looked surprised, but not scared. That was strange… She would have thought for sure that he would be beside himself with fear. Was he… expecting this?

His eyes narrowed to slivers. He was calculating, plotting. How? Shouldn't this have shocked him? It sure as hell shocked her.

Nevertheless, she couldn't let Vlad's confidence discourage her. She puffed herself up with as much self importance she could muster. "Show me where you keep my samples." The words fell from her with an eerie calm, betraying nothing to the turbulent storm of emotion that spun viciously in her mind.

"No," came Vlad's simple reply. "Perhaps with time, but not now." He swept his arm towards the front room. "I'm sorry, my dear. Truly I am. You must know how much it hurts me to do this to you, but I must insist that we continue this conversation later. You'll feel better after some warm food and company."

Her cheeks ached from clenching her jaw. "And if I refuse, you'll release the samples?"

"Naturally," Vlad agreed. "You catch on quick." The observation was dry and almost sarcastic. "After you."

Swallowing some of her pride, she strode forward with all the poise of a caged tiger. Vlad would pay, but for now, she'd play along with his game.

* * *

"I hope she's not gonna do anything stupid," Jazz mumbled. The screen door was still bouncing on the door jam from being slammed too hard. Danny hummed in agreement. Knowing Valerie, something stupid was well within the realm of possibility. Hopefully, she was too tired to act on her own power.

Mutely, Danny's father lumbered closer. He was hunched over, hobbling on a half-hearted limp around the constricted space. His skin was paler than usual, his typical cheery blush long faded underneath an exhausted pallor. Danny winced in sympathy. He looked like a wreck.

White patchworks of gauze peeked out from beneath his orange suit. That, now that he really thought about it, was actually very worrying.

 _Dad never bandages anything. He doesn't even go to the doctor._

The fact that he had gotten hurt enough for him to actually get medical help was… well, it had always just seemed impossible to Danny. "You guys are pretty beat up," he observed uselessly. It was all his fault, too. If he could have just avoided get caught in the first place, then he could have protected them all: his mother, his father, and his sister.

Somehow, Jazz managed to find some dark hilarity in the situation. "That's rich coming from you." Her fingers were picking at the remains of his sleeve. Danny refused to look at his arm, so instead he set about watching his sister. She looked worried. His fault, again.

"I'll heal eventually," he meandered. He had meant it to sound a bit more solid, but even he didn't really believe it. The skeptical look on his sister's face didn't really help either. "I hope…" Slowly, he closed his eyes, opting to try and forget about where he was for the moment and make good on the chance to rest. The RV was so warm and familiar compared to the cage that he found it hard to resist drifting off.

But, he could hear his sister whisper something, presumably to his dad.

 _Oh, crud! Dad!_

Snapping back to attention, Danny opened his eyes to find that his father had taken Jazz's place as she hovered over his shoulder. Jack wasn't touching his arm, but he was definitely observing and hypothesizing.

"You guys really don't have to-" His voice cracked awkwardly, stupid puberty. His dad, Jack Fenton, Ectobiologist, was way too close for comfort. Try as he might, he still couldn't push aside the memories of the experiments which took place in their basement. If he were subjected to the same experiments, he doubted his human half could come out of it alive.

"You," Jazz said disapprovingly, "don't get a say in this." Oh. no. Danny knew that tone of voice. It was the 'I'm smart, and I know better than you' voice. Great. And it wasn't like he could really do anything about it either.

"Yeah sure," he drawled, sarcasm being his last line of defense. "Go ahead. Do what you want. Not like it's my arm or anything."

Jack looked up somewhat annoyed, but instead of backing off like Danny wanted, he picked up the arm and turned it to get a better look at something. Jazz huffed, blowing back some Danny's hair and sparking goose bumps across his chilled skin. "You get so grumpy when things don't pan out your way."

Well, duh! If things had gone his way, none of this would have ever happened. He would have been able to avoid getting shot in the first place, and then avoid getting kidnapped, and then protect his mother from getting stolen, and then protect his dad from whatever the heck happened to him in the first place. To say that he was 'grumpy' was a severe understatement. He was furious at Spectra and disappointed with himself.

But, instead of voicing that particular sentiment, he just deflated into the seat. This whole thing wasn't Jazz's fault. It was his. He had no right to heckle her when he was the one who brought on this entire situation. "Well, if you just went through what I've just been through, you wouldn't exactly be little miss sunshine either." As soon as the words had fallen from his mouth, he regretted it. It wasn't his place to point out the hardships he had just went through, not when he was still not privy to their own hardships. Hardships that he put them through.

But, Jazz looked like she expected him to say something along those lines. She remained composed, not jumping at the bait and starting an argument. "True," she responded.

The three of them fell into a silence. A very awkward, strained silence. The tension in the air was near palpable. Danny almost wished that he had started an argument with his sister, if only to continue distracting himself from the fact that his father was sitting not a half-foot away, silently judging.

Unable to bear the silence any longer, Danny spoke up. "Well, this has been fun. Thanks for, y'know, pulling me out of that pit and stuff."

Jack hummed, seemingly immersed in his thoughts. His eyes were trained on Danny's arm, which really did nothing for his nerves.

Desperate, Danny continued, "So, what now?"

"Arm first," Jazz easily decided. "Then food and rest."

 _Food! We have food? Proper food that didn't come from some god-forsaken mud pit?_

"It needs to eat?"

 _Oh, yeah. Dad is not supposed to know that I need to eat._

"Don't be crazy," Danny reprimanded in what he hoped was a convincing enough tone of voice. "Ghosts don't eat. She probably just meant you -uh- humans should eat." It almost hurt denying food like that, especially after going without for so long. He could feel the effects of famine only exasperate the rate at which he could recover.

"Dan- Ugh! Phantom!" Jazz barked, voice pitching. She turned to address Dad. "Yes, he does eat. He should eat when we do."

Face stricken with shock, Danny turned to her in incredulity. "Who's side are you on!?"

But Jazz didn't have time to answer, because Jack did it for her. "My side, ghost kid." He sounded mad that Phantom could have even considered anything other than her taking his side. Maybe he would let that go? Forget about that small transgression on his pride? Would that be too much to hope for?

Jazz crossed her arms and scowled, looking every bit the stubborn Fenton she always denied she was. "This has gone too far. You're too injured for me to keep this up. You'll thank me later."

"Wait," Danny's head was suddenly becoming clearer as adrenaline began to spike. "You want to do this now!?"

 _Oh man. I gotta get out of here._

He eyed the exit door like it was some exotic animal. "Dad, he has all of the usual human needs."

"Wha- no I-"

"He needs food, water, sleep-"

 _This is getting way out of hand._

He didn't even remember standing up, but he supposed some sort of blind survival instinct pushed his tired legs underneath his body. They ached, but the panic made the pain of it all easy to ignore.

The path to the door was blocked by his father. He could try to go through the wall, but he was still bound by the phase-proof cuffs. And, even if by some miracle, he did make it outside, Val could just track him back down. Out of options, Danny found himself pressed into the small aisle between the undersized couch and the wall.

 _Coward._

Jack had stood up, too, looking slightly unsteady on his left leg. Some additional guilt got tacked onto the fear as he was reminded exactly what the consequences for his failure were. "You need to eat?" This time, he was addressing Danny. No, he was addressing _Phantom_. He addressed Phantom!

Danny would have retreated further if he could, but as it was, he was already trying to melt into the wall. Unsuccessfully, too. Either he was too tired to go intangible, or the phase proof cuffs were doing their job.

"Drink, too?" He shook his head, gaining some ground in the process. "No, I know you need to drink. I just saw you-" He gestured vaguely at the IV drip bag still hanging from a hook on the roof. Self consciously, Danny reached for the tube still bound to his arm. It had, at some point, already fallen out, but it was still tied to his upper arm. He kind of forgot that it was there.

"Uh-" Danny locked eyes briefly with his sister. Determination had set across her face with a stony calm. "I -uh."

"You need to sleep too." Uh-oh. That wasn't a question. He had already accepted that as fact. His dad's eyes were flicking back and forth, plotting things on some invisible whiteboard. That super human brain of his was no doubt humming away at the new wealth of information.

"Huh," Jack finally concluded.

"Huh?" Danny echoed, somewhat disturbed by the anticlimactic reaction. "That's… all you have to say about this?"

His dad looked a little lost, shrugging heavily as though each arm was made of lead. "Actually, I think that makes sense." He gestured broadly at nothing in particular. "Wouldn't make sense if I didn't just see your arm, but now, I think I know a little bit more about what's going on."

"O-kay?" That was a little bit foreboding, and Danny hoped that his dad wouldn't draw any more conclusions… accurate or otherwise.

"So, if we fix that arm, you'll help us get Maddie." Jack's face squished in thought, brows bowing tiredly. He walked past Danny towards the Fenton brand equipment stashes. Gracious to not be under scrutiny for the moment, Danny extracted himself from the small groove he had wedged himself into. Though he was kind of mad at her at the moment, he decided to hover near his sister. She was his only ally at the moment, so he decided he would take whatever he could get.

Two gutted bazookas flew over head followed by an extractor of sorts. Some weird light bulb shaped objects next. "I think I have an idea of what's going on with that arm…" his father grunted between tossing aside various gadgets and weapons. "I've never seen a reaction like that before, but…" His father cut off unexpectedly, never really finishing that sentence. Maybe the absurdity of the situation was getting to him.

Finally, Jack made it to the back of the closet. For it being so small, it did hold quite the amount of junk. From some hanging hooks on the far wall, he produced a folding table. Steel. Easy to clean. "Can't believe I'm doing this," he tsked to himself. Then, to Danny he added, "alright, Phantom. You're up." The surface of the table drummed as his father patted it invitingly.

 _Oh. He wants me to get up on that table. Yeah, no thanks._

Just as he was about to voice his refusal, Jazz forced him forward and the words stuck in his throat. "He'd be _happy_ to, won't you Phantom?" Danny's internal big-sister-to-english translator took that particular phrase to mean, "you will get on that table or so help me.' Since he wasn't really keen on the prospect of starting a fight, especially when the odds were so against him, he complied… but not without a rude look in turn. Did Jazz have to make him do _everything_? He just got out of some weird, psychotic, underground isolation chamber. Getting poked and prodded on a cheap surgical table was the last thing he was interested in doing right now.

Jack, misinterpreting Danny's look of reluctance, amended, "don't worry. This ol' table is stronger than she looks. She'll hold."

 _Great. The table gets to be called a she, but I get to be called an it._

"I hate this," he said as he pulled himself up onto the table. His legs hang off uncomfortably, toes just barely able to scuff the floor.

"This isn't exactly a walk in the park for me either." His dad took the injured arm in his hand, holding it with a surprising amount of care. "Do you know what happened to it?"

Danny frowned, throat tightening treacherously. How to answer? Tell him the truth? That he was in the basement and got shot? That would likely spiral out of control fast. Jack did not need to know that Phantom was hanging out in his basement at night.

 _Time to lie, then._

"I…" he started, but his brain was drawing blanks. Lying was hard! And it took a lot of brain power that he simply did not have at his disposal… not after having been through so much. His eyes locked with Jazz's, hoping that she could bail him out somehow, but she was looking just as interested. She, too, wanted to know what caused such a nasty wound. The silence was quickly extending past awkward and crawling into suspicious territory. If he took much longer, no matter he said could be taken as a lie.

"Well?" his dad prompted. He was starting to get irritated. Well, more irritated than he already was.

"I got shot," Danny answered immediately, hoping that Jack wouldn't probe much further than that.

"Do you know by what?" Danny shook his head. If he revealed that he knew that gun, then that would raise even more questions that he was completely unprepared for. Jack just nodded, digesting that tidbit without question. "By who?" he continued.

Who? Thinking back, Danny never really did figure out much about that orange ghost. Even after working alongside her, he never learned her name, nor her objective. All he knew was that she was dangerous, rude, and either a superpowered nutcase or a scheming mastermind. None of those were good traits, and honestly, he could do without ever seeing her again. "Some trigger happy jerk."

"Oh." His dad, in a rare moment of clarity, was able to discern that this was a sensitive topic. He thankfully did not press the matter, probably thinking that he didn't want to risk insulting Phantom. "Well, I have a hunch, but it's not a sure fire thing…"

"Yay," Danny mumbled. Jack shot him a glare which made him click his jaws shut.

"This will go quicker without the smartass attitude," he stated dryly. "I think your core is experiencing a localized interference, but it's hard to tell. Your-" he waved a hand distractedly, "form is anomalous in pretty much every way. I haven't seen anything like it…" Shaking his head, Danny's father continued, "Normally, ghosts experiencing core interference simply melt, but that's under the assumption that the ghost is comprised entirely of ectoplasmic compounds. You, obviously, are not."

"Okay," Danny ventured. As his father grew increasingly accurate in his assumptions, Danny grew increasingly uncomfortable. Just how long could he remain hidden behind this simple color palette before his secret was uncovered? "So what about it?"

"Well, firstly I think that this interference is manifesting differently on your form because your, uh, body is… Is it organic?" His father looked up from his object of study, eyes sparking with a quizzical nature. "Yes! You're carbon based! That's why you need to drink! Eat!" Free hand drumming erratically, Jack grabbed Danny… _Phantom_ by the shoulder in a spur of joy. "Your arm isn't melting because ectoplasm isn't holding it together! Yes! This makes sense!"

It took all Danny had to not pull away. Jack's excitement, though preferable to rage, was still worrisome. Excitement led to interest. And interest led to discoveries. And discoveries were… unpredictable.

Jazz reached around, thankfully pulling Jack's attention from him. "Dad! Focus. You're scaring him."

Jack turned, some bubbly giddiness still alighting his features. "Jazz! Do you see this? Phantom has a body! Like, a real organic body!"

"Yeah, and he's gonna lose a part of that body if you don't calm down."

Though she didn't mention it as directly as she could have, Danny winced and curled protectively. The thought that he might lose his arm had always been there. Small and repressed, but it was there. Uselessly, he hugged the appendage close as though he could will away the possibility through proximity.

"Wait," his dad's excitement slid off his face like butter from a window in the summer. "You knew, didn't you?" He was addressing Jazz bitterly, betrayal singing in the hurt tone of his voice. He turned towards Danny. "And you knew that she knew." Then, he threw both hands up to his head. "This is crazy." He shook his head, starting to pace in the small space, rocking the RV from side to side. "This is insane. You're not a ghost."

 _This is not a good reaction._

Danny leaned over to his sister who was thankfully closer than his dad was. "Great. Good job, genius. You broke Dad," he whispered. "Want to tell him that I'm secretly his son, too?"

Jazz exhaled sharply. "Well it's not like I had much of a choice," she whispered back. "Look at yourself! This is too far…"

Dismissively, Danny waved his hand. He'd had this argument too many times in the past. Every single time he got hurt, Jazz wanted to spill. "I'll heal," he grumbled. And really, he always did.

"I can't believe it. All this time there's been… whatever you are, and my own daughter knew the entire time." The way Jack's voice warbled threatened tears. He had been pushed too far. Losing Maddie, and now knowing that he never had his daughter's undivided trust. It hurt. It hurt so bad to see his dad like this. "Why didn't you tell me?"

 _This is wrong. This was never Jazz's idea._

Determined to clear Jazz's blame, Danny raised his hand nervously. The action drew Jack's attention immediately. "Um, Mr. Fenton? It's not Jazz's fault." Jack raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. "I mean," Danny corrected, "It was me. I asked her not to tell you… or Maddie."

"You what!" Jack practically exploded. He was quickly cycling between emotions. Fascination to hurt to righteous fury. The weight of his rage crashed like a breaking wave, forcing Danny to practically bow under the pressure. "You talk to my daughter, convince her to trust you, and then you manipulate her to not tell anyone?!"

"Dad!" Jazz snapped. "I'm not some mindless drone! I made my own decisions!"

"Decisions that were influenced by this thing that I don't even… I don't even know what it is, Jazz! And it was talking to you, and manipulating you, and you believed it over me!"

 _Yikes. This is really not a good reaction._

His dad and sister glared at each other, warring with equal stubbornness. As exhausted as he was, Jack was the first to break. Where he usually stood unapologetically strong and good-willed, it was strange to see him actually crack. Danny had to constantly remind himself that this was real. That this was happening.

The silence was deafening. Even Phantom's weak, malformed, and glitchy psychic empathies were drowning in the negativity. Spectra would have a ball if she were here. Danny supposed he should be happy that there was a ghost shield around the perimeter.

"Jack?" Danny whispered, almost fearful to break the silence. "I know how this looks, but I'm not the problem right now." And that was the truth. No matter how much of this was his fault, he wasn't the current problem. The current problem was Spectra. She still had one family member squirreled away somewhere.

Jack's scowl spoke volumes. His blue eyes were cutting distinguished slits against his bowed, dark brows. "You swear to keep your bargain? I fix your arm. You help get my wife."

With one furtive glance to the ugly lesion which spanned not but an inch or so across his skin, Danny nodded. "I promise."

Jack's body appeared to collapse in on itself, the tension bleeding out slowly as exhaustion reclaimed his strength. "Then let's get you patched up," he breathed sadly. He lethargically crossed the room, collapsing in a small seat next to the table Danny was perched on. "Jazz, get the foamer." From the ground, his father gathered up some part of the Fenton Ghost Bazooka.

* * *

A/N: Wow! Sorry this took so long guys! Points are coming together, and the larger character roster is harder to manage now that everyone is starting to get active parts. After turning the story around a bit in my head, I think I like the idea of having a chapter dedicated to confusing and enraging the Fenton parents. I know its not exactly progressing the plot, but I think this is necessary to cement the hardship that each parent is having to face. They shouldn't be able to handle it all. This is a lot for them.

... I also like the idea of Danny taking on the guilt of his failures. After seeing how much every one suffers when he's not there to protect them, I think its only natural that he would blame himself for it all.

Thank everyone for following, favoriting, and/or reviewing! This story really blew up the last couple of chapters, actually doubling in followers! So that's really actually amazing. I don't know what to do with this power. Are you sure you guys know what you're doing? Trusting me to write this thing?

An extra thanks to: Invader Johnny, OverlordChoco, MsFrizzle, paolotejadaj, Chaotiquill, and Quiet Leaf for leaving reviews. I can't describe how awesome it is to get an email with a little review in it. It just absolutely makes my day.

Invader Johnny, how? are? you? always? so? quick? Do you have some secret psychic link to me? Do you know when I'm going to post? HOw? Anyways, thank you so much for your constant support. It's nice to have a regular.

MsFrizzle, you know you're awesome. Even your smaller reviews have a good deal of depth to them. Thank you for giving me so much feedback. Even as new as I am, I feel like your reviews consistently push me to grow as a writer.

paolotejadaj, thanks for reading. I appreciate your concern, but I don't think I'll be needing to change the rating. Compared to a lot of fics here, I'm going to keep this one rather tame. I'm aiming for T to YA audiences in terms of content ratings, and while I know I'm toeing the line in terms of violence, I think I'm still comfortable with the rating. Things aren't going to get worse from here on. We're on the other side of the hump.

And Quiet Leaf, thanks for joining the party! I hope you continue to enjoy this fic as it (slowly) gets written and put together. I've been through a small number of harmless procedures these past couple of years, so I sort of based Danny's behavior on how I feel coming off of anesthesia (seriously loopy and forgetful). I also found it funny despite the dark context of the situation. And don't worry, you'll find out what's going on with Maddie soon enough.

Chaotiquill, chapter 11 is a sister chapter to chapter 10. It has a lot of overlap, but chapter 10 is primarily from Danny's POV while chapter 11 is primarily from Jack's POV. You may have missed it in the author's note, but I never intended this story to get so big. It was mostly intended to be an experimental piece, just to see what I can do. Sorry for the confusion. That was completely not my intention. It's unfortunate, but you will have to put up with my weirdness as I try new things. Thank you for reading, and I hope you have a good time.


	14. Chapter 14

Cassiopeia

Chapter 14

* * *

The moment Jazz's protective presence exited the RV, presumably to retrieve the Fenton Foamer from the exterior luggage, Jack leaned in threateningly. "Let's get something straight," he snarled, "Ghost or not, I don't like you talking to my little girl. Got it?"

Nervous, Danny's good hand clenched the table ledge. Even though he could understand his father's hesitance, it still cut deep to be treated like a threat. He'd never, in a million years, hurt Jazz. "Yes, uh-" Voice clipped, Danny stuttered. The light in his father's eyes was cold and steely. Threatening. Far too close for comfort. "Yes, sir."

Blue eyes searched Danny's face with intense scrutiny, perhaps trying to judge just how far Phantom's word could be trusted. Surely, if he looked hard enough, Danny's father could see past the disguise… But, to Danny's relief and somewhat disappointment, Jack broke the staring contest with a brisk nod. "Good."

"Got it!" Jazz shouted, instantly breaking the tension as she hopped back into the RV. In her hands was a unpolished prototype Fenton Foamer. The oversized machine was clutched clumsily. Sharpie decorated its unpolished surface in a frenzy of scribbled notes and suggestions for improvement. Loops and tangles of wires hung free and bare, easily accessible for last minute tweaks.

… But the foamer, despite appearances, was still a threat. Ammunition sloshed in a semi-transparent tank, glowing with the Fenton signature green. His parents never made static models. Every prototype they ever made was a _working_ prototype. This thing, however unfinished it appeared, posed just as much a danger as the real deal.

He and his sister shared a look, one that he hoped conveyed his extreme dislike of that particular device. Jazz took the hint. She didn't bring it anywhere near the back of the RV. Choosing to keep the gun in the front, she plopped herself down side saddle in the passenger seat.

If Jack noticed her hesitance, he didn't comment on it. Instead, he smiled at her approvingly. "Good work, Jazzy! Can you get the tank out of it? We need the solution."

Frowning, Jazz wrestled the gun such that she could better see the tankard of foaming solution. "There's not much in here… A fifth maybe?"

"A fifth?" Jack eyed the tank. Then, he sized up Danny's arm. "That should be plenty."

 _Wait. He wants to put that on me?_

"Uh- not to interrupt, but you're going to put that stuff," he indicated to Fenton Foamer, "on me?"

At the question, Jack looked up from the gutted bazooka in his lap, eyebrow arched. "Why? Don't like it?"

 _Oh crud! I'm not supposed to know what that is!_

"Uh- uh-" Danny swallowed and shifted on the table. It was hard and cold. A lot less forgiving than the couch he was on before. "I mean," he corrected, "It's a gun right? An anti-ghost gun thing? Probably bad for me?"

Jack sighed heavily, returning his attention to the bazooka. "It's a bonding agent," he mumbled quietly. "A really strong adhesive." With a bit of strain, he snapped a couple of thin metal dowels from the bazooka. "It can injure you, and that is the point of it, but I'm not going to use it like that today."

"Oh." That explanation was a lot less comforting than Danny had hoped. "So… what does it do?"

Strangely, Jack seemed to almost perk up, shedding some of the exhaustion which was weighing him down. "Wait," he shook his head in disbelief, "you actually want to _know_ what that thing does?"

Danny shot Jazz a questioning glance. Is this normal? Do you think he's snapped? But she only stared back, equally perplexed. Slowly, he brought his attention back to his father who was patiently awaiting an answer. "Uh- yeah? Kinda. You're going to use that stuff on me, right? I think I'd like to know what it does…"

"You're serious?" Jack was looking at Danny… no at _Phantom_ like he had just spawned the head of a failed duplicate on his shoulder. "No one likes that thing. It's not even one of our better inventions. You know, it's been to three separate paranormal road shows and rejected on each occasion?"

 _Oh, I actually didn't know that._

As much as his parents liked to share their success, they did keep their losses secret from their children. Danny was learning more and more about their struggles the older he got, but never had he suspected that their inventions could actually not draw attention. Especially inventions that worked.

"Literally no one cares about this thing," Jack continued. He slouched, picking through some loose wires and pulling some more free. "You probably don't want to hear about it either."

Fidgeting, Danny tried his best to lighten the mood. "Well, it obviously works," he encouraged. "Those -uh- roadshows don't know what they passed up on."

Without warning, Jack suddenly pounded his fist against the arm of his chair. "That's exactly what I've been saying this whole time!" Eyes sparking, Jack leaned forward excitedly. "All they like is the stuff that glows and the stuff that makes noise. Absolute nonsense, most of it is! Bring out even an ounce of slime and everyone gets grossed out."

"Heh." Uncomfortable with the sudden intrusion of his personal space, Danny discretely scooted back along the table. "Yeah, and what is even up with the whole EVP nonsense. It's all so obviously doctored-"

"Yes!" Jack shouted. He turned to look at Jazz. "This guy gets it!"

"Well, not to gloat or anything, but I am actually a ghost hunter…" This was very weird. If he knew it would be this easy to connect with his dad before, then he would have done this ages ago. Apparently, all Jack needed was some mutual interest.

"You are?" Calming down again, Jack leaned back and continued his butchery of the bazooka. "I guess you are, huh? Never thought of it like that… I mean, I've seen you attack other ghosts, but... " He shrugged. "I just never made the connection."

"Yeah, I know. I need a publicist."

"Don't we all," Jack agreed. He had finally managed to work his fingers around a small board embedded within a divot. With one smooth motion, the mammoth of a man easily separated it from the metal. It would never cease to amaze Danny the level of care that his father could work with. He supposed it must have been the years of handling volatile material which had drilled a certain degree of gentleness to his father's touch.

"Well, I guess I can tell you what it does," he mused. "Ghost hunter to ghost hunter… I can't see any harm in it." He settled a look of jest on Jazz. "Jazz could also use the lecture."

Jazz raised an irritated eye up from her progress on the Fenton Foamer. Having forgone conventional tools, she was now attempting to pry out the tank with the broad side of a boomerang. Returning her attention to the uncooperative mess of gadgetry in her lap, Jazz muttered, "The day I don't hear a lecture about ghosts is the day I die."

Pretending not to hear his daughter's protests, Jack moved on excitedly. "Like I said, that stuff is a really, really strong ectoplasmic-based adhesive." By way of demonstration, he held up both of his hands with his fingers splayed and wiggling. "Let's say my hands are a couple of tiny molecular ghost bits. They like to move around and shift with the fluctuations in the ghost's frequencies. When the foam comes in contact with them…" He brought his hands together, pressing his fingertips against one another. "It sticks the molecules together. Ghost bodies are in a constant state of flux, so having portions be bonded and still…" He made of show of trying to wiggle his fingers and hands while still keeping his fingers stuck together. "It causes increasing tension which eventually leads to a breakdown in the ghost's basic form."

"Huh," Danny hummed, interested. He didn't really follow why having things stay still was bad, but if it was, he'd take Jack's word for it.

Seemingly spurred on, Jack eagerly boomed, "but this can be used to our advantage!" Caught up in the demonstration, Danny's father scooted forward and grabbed the arm. "If I'm right, there's a load of ectoplasm which is carrying some sort of interfering frequency all throughout your arm." His large finger traced up into Danny's shoulder, coming to rest near Danny's chest. "It's getting cycled through your system, disrupting whatever your core is trying do."

"... what is it trying to do?" Danny asked, uncertainty hitching his voice. He'd always tried to tell himself that the specifics didn't matter. That he didn't need to know what he was or how his new body operated. But, at the end of the day, he _was_ curious.

"Uh-" Jack dropped his hand. "I'm not really sure… Clearly it's not holding you together, so you should count your lucky stars."

"Oh." Yeah. It would probably make sense that his father didn't know how he operated either. Kinda sucked though. "So, the foamer is going to help?"

"Yeah! At least, I think so." Once again, Jack grabbed Danny's arm, turning such that the ugliest gash was facing upwards. "I want to quarantine the ectoplasm here. New stuff can go in, but nothing can come out. The adhesive properties of the Fenton Foamer should be enough to accomplish that."

 _Yes!_

Hope blossomed in his chest. After having this cut for so long, he was beginning to think it was just going to stay there forever.

"Or," Jack continued, "I could be wrong and just compounding injuries." His father shrugged. "This sort of stuff isn't really an exact science."

 _Oh. Oh, no._

On queue, a small crash and a **pop** sounded from the front of the RV. Jazz gasped, holding up the foaming solution like it was a golden trophy. "Got it!"

"You are both way too eager to do this," Danny observed. Knowing that there was a chance of failure was making him somewhat protective. Just how bad off could his arm get before it just… well, before it just fell off.

Graciously accepting the tank from Jazz, Jack stood up and approached the table Danny was currently perched on. "Beats sitting around and waiting for the problem to solve itself, which it won't." Then, he grinned widely exposing his very distinct inner mad scientist. "Don't worry! I did say it's not an exact science. That's because it's one part science and one part gut. And I got a lot of guts, kid. This will work."

* * *

Valerie stalked about the clearing, steaming with rage. She didn't know exactly why she was so pissed off, but she was absolutely and full heartedly enraged.

Sure, she could blame the constant electronic buzz of her suit. Sure, she could blame the attitude that the ghost kid gave her. Sure, she could blame Jazz for kicking her out of the RV. Heck, she could even blame the stupidity of this whole enterprise if she wanted to.

But, somehow, she _knew_ that those reasons did not account for how overly upset she was. No. This was the sort of rage that didn't come from frustrating prodding or sarcastic quips or disappointing excursions.

This was the sort of rage that made her feel sick.

Never in her entire life had she ever seen anyone as destroyed as Phantom was. She should have felt gratified, vindicated, satisfied. But she didn't. She just felt wrong. She never wanted anyone to undergo that sort of treatment. She just… never thought of… Phantom… as a person worth saving?

Not that Phantom was a person… or maybe he was? He did have some Fenton brand pajamas. She knew because she found the shirt lying on the floor of her room. Was he stealing clothes? No, that seemed unlikely. He would have been caught by security footage thanks to her dad… So then, was Jazz providing personal items for him? To account for the things that he didn't have?

She knew what that felt like. To not have anything. To look at the wealth of others and wonder what you ever did to deserve nothing… not even friends.

Maybe, she saw a little of herself in Phantom…

Her fist wound and unwound, metal screeching against the hardened rubber pad on her palm.

And of all the people she expected to see get their spectral asses handed to them.

 _It just has to be him, doesn't it?_

Because she didn't notice that there was a ghost in the Fenton household. Because she wasn't there to assist. Because she was a stupid, self-serving idiot who prioritized going to bed early over a patrol that evening.

 _Stupid!_

Startled, she looked down at her hand to see that a side arm had materialized itself. Her suit was throwing almost as big a fit as she was. It wasn't listening, spawning whatever useless piece of weaponry it pleased. Frustrated, she closed her eyes. Focused. The gun disappeared again.

She didn't have the battery to waste on this sort of idiocy. She already couldn't fly. Grounded, she was only as good as her guns, so she was intent on conserving the ammunition.

Her eyes trailed along her arm. Green was… it was just… everywhere. It shimmered on her armor, violently clashing with the red undertones until it was a gross muddy color in the thinner spots. Phantom's blood. He lost so much of it. How much did he even have? It felt like he probably bled out twice while she was busy looking for Maddie.

… She should have just made a beeline for the RV the moment she got him. Should have never tried to search for the Mrs. Fenton. Maybe, if she got him there earlier, they'd be in better shape than they were now.

Her stomach turned, and Valerie felt like she might puke. She hoped that if it would come to that, that she could get her suit to unequip itself. Getting vomit along the inside of her visor was the last thing she needed right now.

Limp. Broken. Bleeding out. Dazed. Still conscious, but not responsive. Valerie didn't know what to expect when she forced herself on this trip, but she sure as hell wasn't expecting _that._ Phantom was always invincible and quick to fly away. He never stayed and invited danger. Valerie counted on that. That smug bastard would fly around dizzyingly, taunt her, and then disappear. To see him actually get caught. To see him actually get hurt…

She wanted to do that.

But now that she knew how that looked, how unnervingly human the kid seemed… How inhumane and awful the whole situation was.

It was gross. She was gross for wanting it. Spectra was even worse for doing it.

She looked at the RV maring the landscape with its glaring and reflective silver tones. She hoped Phantom was doing better. If he wasn't, then Spectra would pay threefold. Fourfold, even. She'd pulverise that monster into oblivion with every ounce of her strength and then some. And even then, Spectra would be getting off too easy.

* * *

Jack grabbed the circuit board he had snapped out of the bazooka earlier. "I want to try something. If it works, then it should lessen the damage the Fenton Foamer will cause."

Something in the back of Danny's mind supplied that the 'will cause' part of that sentence was bad, but he was more focused on what his father was proudly displaying in his hands. A small, unassuming circuit board. It appeared harmless if one pointedly ignored the large, dangerous looking battery Jack had carelessly strapped to it.

 _Wait. Isn't this battery the type that explodes?_

He hoped it wasn't, but he couldn't be sure. His parents went through several iterations of batteries and synthetic cores, and he could never really tell the difference between any of them. Hopefully, Jack could.

"This little baby," Jack proudly declared, "is the amplifying circuit for the bazooka. Most of our guns have one, but the bazooka has a special set of parameters." Then, he leaned in, whispering like he had a juicy piece of gossip. "I say special but what I really mean is frustrating. Madds won't stop modifying it. She just can't let this thing be. Drives me crazy. Anyway!" He pulled back, indicating a small forked bit at the end. "This little guy repels ectoplasm and acts as the 'shooting' mechanism for many of our guns. The bazooka needs a lot more _oomph_ though, so Maddie had to get creative." His fingers followed a trace line that was so small, Danny could only barely make it out. "It has a full, closed-loop feedback system which measures energy sources and dynamically adjusts to repel spectral frequencies. Basically, that's a fancy way of saying that this thing only puts out the energy it needs to."

Danny blinked as he slowly processed that information. "Uh, so you're going to shoot the foam at me? I don't see how that-"

"What? No!" Jack cradled the circuit protectively as though Danny had just insulted it. "The ammunition would be, in this case, you're ectoplasm."

Danny leveled his father an uncertain look. "... you want to shoot me at the foam?"

Groaning, Jack looked up at the ceiling and prayed for strength. "No. Nothing is getting shot at anything."

"Oh, okay?" Danny nodded like he understood everything when he really did not.

"I just…" Jack started, "want to see if this works. I mean, you're body isn't made of ectoplasm, so it stands to reason that the ectoplasm can be temporarily removed without complica-"

"You want to what!?" Alarm bells were sounding. His dad wanted to remove the ectoplasm from his body? Yeah, no thanks. Not in a million years. Nuh-uh.

"Hey!" Jack looked affronted. "Only a little bit-"

"A little bit!? Only a little bit? Jazz, do you hear this?"

"Phantom," Jazz chided. She was in the dining area already foraging for snacks and other foodstuffs. "Let Dad do his work."

"Yes, thank you, Jazz." Jack settled on an annoyed expression, but thankfully stayed calm otherwise. "No ectoplasm is being removed from your body. I think you've probably lost enough as it is. I just want to _push_ the ectoplasm somewhere else while I apply the foam. If I can avoid having it adhere to your healthy ectoplasm, then your body will undergo less damage."

Danny narrowed suspicious eyes, but it wasn't like he knew enough to dispute that logic. "Okay," he shakily complied. "Just… get it over with."

"Alright." Now, Jack was looking a bit hesitant. He never hesitated, and that reaction was somewhat worrisome. "I guess I'll start at your fingers?"

"Um, yeah." Danny held out his hand."Here."

With a mumbled thanks, Jack took the offered appendage and brushed the fork on Danny's fingers. Like a switch, Danny's aura sprung out, hovering like tiny spectral rings around each finger.

 _Uh-oh. That's not good._

Jack jumped out of surprise, and took a cautious step back. "Woah! Did not expect that." His arm was fully extended as he dutifully held the circuit in place.

"That makes two of us…" Danny answered. He stared in awe at the partial transformation. It felt weird and squirmy. Phantom was likely fighting against it.

"What's happening? Oh." Jazz shared a panicked look with Danny who in turn shared an anxious look with Jack.

"I take it this has happened before?" Jack asked. "I saw- you did this earlier, except bigger." His arms were extended as far as they could be. "This is bad, isn't it?"

"Uh-" Jazz was staring open-mouthed. "You're- It's-" She was struggling, grasping at words as she tried to figure out something to say that wouldn't immediately incriminate either of them.

"It's... not really bad? Just…" Danny's eyes flicked between his dad and his sister and the hand which was becoming human at a frighteningly quick rate. "It's… uhm, not good… but I… it doesn't hurt or anything? It won't hurt you."

Jack seemed to take this in stride, taking a deep breath to steady himself. Shoulders squared, he retook his position next to the table. "Okay. I'm going to continue, then."

Danny swallowed, eyes focussing on his older sister as though he could ignore what was going on around him. He felt as the circuit touched his bare skin and climbed up his arm. He could feel it, the ectoplasm, as it was forced out of it's usual formation. Like frigid worms, it snaked up through his veins as an unsettling warmth flooded just behind. As the feeling worsened, the room around him grew continually brighter. The transformation was getting stronger, lighting up the room like a sluggish camera flash.

"This is very strange," Jack commented quietly. He sounded almost awestruck. "I expected your body to put up more of a fight. It shouldn't be this easy."

Danny didn't answer. Fear that the circuit might actually trigger a full transformation was setting in. Pointedly looking away, he focussed solely on his grip on his ghost half. Phantom couldn't get away from him. Not now. Not with this current audience.

"It's almost like your body expects to be able to do this…" Jack continued to slowly inch the circuit along his arm. Once it reached past the crook of Danny's elbow, the usual sharp stabs of pain from the wound were amplified. His nerves sung ballads of tortuous measures. Hissing and whimpering, he weakly tried to pull away. Nerves hurt so much more in human form, and he was not prepared for it.

But, Jack was prepared. His grip was strong and absolute. "Hold still," he ordered. "I can't help you if you don't hold still."

 _Easier said than done._

When the circuit finally, _finally_ reached its target, Danny felt his nerve endings light up like a christmas tree on fire. He unintentionally struggled some more, just wanting to do nothing more than relieve himself of that pain. His dad yelled, calling for Jazz's help, and soon after, he felt another pair of hands restrain him.

Curious, Danny risked a glance. Jazz was now the one holding the circuit in place. The transformation ring, though near blinding and resting irritatingly close to his face, wasn't quite enough to obscure Jack. He was stood in the background, pouring a bit of the foaming solution onto a loose cloth.

 _This is going to hurt SO bad._

He shut his eyes again, and despite the anticipation, he didn't feel any new pains. He could clearly feel someone touching the wound, and that did hurt. But he couldn't feel the tell tale itching and burning of the Fenton Foamer.

Confused, Danny opened his eyes again to assess the situation. Dutifully, Jazz was stood strong, continuing to hold the circuit in place. The ring wavered and warped, apparently upset with having to stay still. Luckily it stayed just before his shoulder and didn't stray any farther up.

His father was frozen, hyper focused on the cloth as he held it over the wound. He was staring so hard that Danny started to get worried. "Is it… okay?" he asked.

Jack snapped out of it with a sharp shake of his head. "I thought I saw… I thought I saw ectoplasm… but… that's not right… all the ectoplasm is gone." He lifted up the cloth. A muddy brown liquid clung to it. Blood? "This is…" Jack visibly shuddered. "It's not reacting to the foam."

"So, is-" Danny licked his lips. His friggin arm was on fire, and Jack was just having a staring contest with his blood. Which, yeah, okay. Blood might be a little bit surprising. But he really wished his dad would hurry it up so he could have Phantom back. "Is it done?"

Jack straightened, eyes meeting Danny's. "Sorry. It's done."

Danny nodded slowly and was happy to have his arm released. The ring suddenly stopped warping and happily retreated back down to his hand where it fizzled out. Almost immediately, Phantom dampened the pain, but it was also now accompanied by some itching and burning. Probably from the Fenton Foamer.

"That still looks bad," Jazz commented. "How does it feel?"

"It hurts," Danny confirmed as he folded his arm back against his chest. "But not much more than usual. I can definitely feel that foam, though. Is Jack okay?"

His father was hunched over, inspecting the reddish brownish tinged cloth with a worrying degree of focus. "It's not reacting." he stated. "This is blood. Real blood."

Worried, Jazz gave Danny a light squeeze before she left his side. Danny agreed. Right now, Jack was the one who needed more help than he did. "Dad?" She questioned. "Are you alright?"

Jack looked at her. Then, at Danny. "You bleed," he said. "This is blood. I knew I smelt it earlier, but-" His eyes were once again attracted to the cloth in his hand. "I didn't want to believe it."

Jazz shot Danny a bothered glance. "Dad," she tried again. "It's okay."

"No, it's not," Jack stated miserably. "It's not okay. How did I not notice before? You're not- I haven't studied anything like youl."

 _Oh no. This is really becoming a worst case scenario. How long until he recognizes me?_

Danny took this as his cue. If he didn't act fast, if he didn't save face, then his carefully constructed temple of lies would come crashing down on him fast.

Unsteadily, Danny pushed himself into a standing position. The ground was still slick with ectoplasm (ew), but the pattern in the metal grating helped him to get some traction. "Jack?" he ventured. "I don't… really know what to say."

Jack's attention crawled from Jazz to Danny. He reached out, but then seemed to think better of it at the last minute. "I think... after seeing everything. After knowing what you need…" He shook his head, admonishing himself. "No. That's stupid. Crazy. Impossible. Nothing could do that to any living thing..."

 _Oh, this is really not good._

"You just, now that I see it, now that I know what to look for, you look so much like a kid." His eyes were tearing up, and he looked like he might break down again. "You even look like you could be Jazz's age." His arms were shaking, Danny realized with a start. His dad was trembling. "Maybe younger." He sucked in a loud, shaky breath. "What are you?"

Danny froze. This was the worst possible thing Jack could have asked him. If he had the strength to, if he didn't have on those phase-proof cuffs, then he'd have bolted. And he hated himself for wanting to run, but… Really, it was the only way he knew to deal with these sorts of situations. Run away and let the moment pass. Show up again when everything is over.

 _Coward!_

He berated himself for thinking like that. This was his _father._ His father would never do anything to hurt him… _knowingly._ Unknowingly, sure. He'd do it in a heartbeat. Now that he knew, though. Now that Jack _knew_ … well, Danny had confidence that his father could be trusted. Danny knew this. But, he just wasn't ready for a reveal.

So many things were at risk. His freedom. His body. Would his parents want to get baselines? Medical reports? How far would they go to restrict him. Could they actually remove Phantom?

No. He was absolutely not ready for this.

"I- don't know," he settled. That wasn't technically a lie. He actually didn't know what he was, what he was doing here, why he was spared a cold, instant death at the grizzly green hands of the Fenton Portal, but… he did know more than Jack did. So it did sort of count as a half-lie. "But, you are right. I'm not, y'know.."

Jack deflated. "You're not just a ghost," he repeated. "And I've treated you like you were the casual ectopus or slime monster." Ashamed, Jack hung his head even lower between his shoulders. "Jazz, you were right. I…" His fingers crumpled and steepled and fidgeted around the tainted cloth. "We never even scratched the surface."

Danny hummed, sort of embarrassed, sort of ashamed, sort of scared. His father's attention was magnetized, and it was filled with so much emotional charge. It was hard to ignore, forget, pretend that everything was still as it was, as it should be. Calm. Safe. Shrouded by secrets and misinformation. "I'm…" He cleared his throat, and Jazz swatted his hand as he reached up to scratch where the foam was. Formulating thoughts was hard. "I'm… kind of rare," he admitted, hoping that the fact would help alleviate some of his father's guilt. "And I didn't really want you to find out…"

Breaking eye contact, Jack bent even farther into his hunch. He had gone quiet and slack, thinking and depressive. It was so against his normal, cheery self, so opposite of the behavior that Danny had internalized as his dad. It was hard, so hard, to see him this way. He was helpless, he realized.

Jazz, on the other hand, took the lead from here, easily leading their dad to the bedroom where he gratefully collapsed into the bottom bunk bed. He did look so incredibly tired. When was the last time he had slept? Grinding his arm into the groove beneath his ribcage, Danny had to remind himself that his dad was the only one here qualified (however loosely) to drive. That meant… did his dad stay up this whole time? Driving? Searching?

 _And to think that Spectra had mom this whole time..._

It was frustrating, no, it was beyond that. Infuriating, maybe? To know that he was right next to his mom the entire time. If only he had never listened to that stupid know-it-all ghost, he'd probably have already dug her out of that hospital and dragged her all the way back home by now. As it stood now, his mom could have been moved anywhere. They'd have to get her whereabouts from Spectra herself.

Jazz and Jack were talking, whispering to each other in urgent, almost argumentative tones. The conversation was short lived, ending when his sister abruptly closed the curtain. "Phantom is fine!" she shouted. "Just go to sleep."

* * *

The sun had already crawled midway across the sky by the time Jazz exited the RV. She was stressed, tired, and her black eye ached, but she was worlds better than her father was… and her brother… she didn't think he could get so bad and still be as coherent as he was.

Valerie was the next beast to tackle, though. As far as Jazz knew, Valerie was not injured, which was good seeing as every other member of her party was. But, if her brother's intuition was correct, then Jazz knew that Valerie's core was shot. She needed to rest.

The wind picked up, blowing the dense grass and leaves and wrinkling the plastic bag in her hands. It was filled up with a few granola bars, meat in a can, and a sports drink. Not exactly a meal fit for a king, but Danny had already claimed the toaster pastries and jerky for himself. The cookies were a no go either. Her mom had made them just before going missing. If anyone needed those sugary delights, it was her dad.

"Hello?" she called, careful not to use the huntress's name. Secrets were secrets after all. Danny might slip up all the time, but Jazz was a tight lipped veteran. "I brought food."

The huntress's voice answered her from above. "Not. Hungry." Just behind some smattering of leaves, she could clearly see the red glare of the huntress's armor as her body was reclined along a tree branch. She sounded upset, but it was hard to gauge just how upset she was thanks to the distortion her voice modulator caused.

Jazz yawned, tears pricking at her eyes. These were a long few days, and she was wiped. Opting to sit beneath the tree, Jazz closed her eyes and enjoyed to cool afternoon weather. The fresh air helped to flush some of the sick citrus smell from her nostrils too.

"He's doing better, now," she said, careful to not direct that statement directly at the huntress. This was a touchy subject. If Valerie really wanted to, she could just pretend that Jazz was talking to herself. "Dad did something. Doesn't look like it's backfiring, so that's a good sign."

Metal scraped against wood. Jazz looked up to see a darkened visor peering down at her through the dead leaves. Jazz smiled up at her. It was nice to know that on some level, Valerie cared about her brother. Both forms of him, at least, and not just the one.

"He's up and about now, if you want to see him."

The huntress huffed, and her armor rattled about as she returned to her lounging. "I don't remember saying I wanted to see his mug."

"Well," Jazz argued, "he does need a sling, so you will need to take those cuffs off sooner or later."

Some silence passed. Jazz let Valerie have her quiet moment. These past few days were rough, and of everyone, Valerie was forced to take on most of the actual fighting work. She put herself in the line of fire, taking the brunt of the blows from the seemingly unending waves of animalistic ghosts.

"I'll just leave this here." Jazz stood up, almost sad to leave the clean comfort of the outside. She found herself wondering how long Valerie could keep the suit on. If it was healthy for her or if it placed some kind of strain on her. She imagined that it probably did. "You should rest," she suggested, and she hoped that Valerie would actually do it. If they were going to do this thing tonight, then having Valerie at her best would be… well, for the best. Her brother was too hurt to carry the team as it was.

Just as Jazz made to leave, something metallic fell from the tree, landing in the dirt with a soft **thunk**. It glinted red in the sunlight. A key? For the cuffs? Valerie was busy pretending not to notice. When Jazz picked it up, the metal was cool and slick, still humming like a plucked guitar string.

"Thanks," she called, but the huntress deigned to answer.

* * *

A/N: Another long chapter. Hope its not too exposition-y. It was hard to write. The next chapter is even harder to write, so expect a decent delay before that one gets published.

And while I usually do review responses here, I think I'm going to take up Pterodactyl's advice and do some PM's. I just got so many from the last chapter, so wow! Thanks everyone. I'm blown away by all your kindness.

Thank you to all you wonderful readers for making it thus far, for favoriting, following, and reviewing. I feel like I've come so far in the year or so that I've been writing this fic, and it's all thanks to you and this platform. I genuinely wish you all the best.


	15. Chapter 15

Cassiopeia

Chapter 15

* * *

 **Brzzz… brzzz… brzzz… clk…**

Danny groaned at the unwelcome noise. He was not eager to wake up yet, especially not to a stupid 'silent' cell phone alarm. Silent? How was that silent? The vibrate mode still made noise. The silent part was nothing but false advertisement.

So, in light of his current blind hatred of silent cell phone alarms, he resolved to get just a few more seconds of sleep. Tightening his grip on the blankets, he curled further into the blank, painless passage of sleep.

Then, something rustled around. It was getting closer. No ghost sense. Not a ghost. If it was not a ghost, then he didn't need to wake up. Period.

But, life wasn't so easy. Soon, he found himself being shaken awake by one _very_ tired, very bruised sister. And all of a sudden, his memories hit him like a train on a track.

He was in the GAV. His mother was kidnapped. Valerie was here (as the Red Huntress). And something bad happened to his dad and sister.

Oh, man. And his arm. _Oww…_

He stiffly sat up, adjusting his arm so that it wasn't so squished into the couch. "Jazz?" he mumbled.

"Hey," she whispered back, clearly relieved to hear his voice. "You're looking a little better."

"Thanks." With his good hand, he rubbed his sore neck. "How long was I out?"

"About five hours."

"FIVE HOURS!"

"Shhh!" Jazz quickly put a hand to his mouth. "Dad's still asleep, and you're… uh… you're not-"

"Ugh…" He noted his current humanity with a hint of annoyance. "I was getting so good at controlling it, too."

"You're lucky dad's behind a curtain right now."

His eyes flicked back to where his father's snores were rattling against the metal walls. "Yeah," he agreed. He stretched and relished the feel of actual furniture beneath his bones. Then, he noticed something new.

"Hey Jazz," he whispered, "my arm doesn't feel like it's crammed in a Fenton Incinerator anymore."

Her eyes rose up from her phone's screen, trailing to his arm which was completely obscured by a sling. "Do you think what Dad did worked?"

Danny shrugged, happy to realize that the motion didn't bring any new onset of pain. In fact, now that he was really thinking about it, it really only ached. And itched. But the itching was probably more due to the Fenton Foamer than anything.

"Well, I hope its working," Jazz finished.

He reached up and tugged at the makeshift sling. The moment Jazz noticed, she slapped away his hand. "I swear," she threatened, "if you do not stop messing with it, I will get the thermos."

"But it's itchy!" he whined, "and I kind of want to see what it looks like…"

"You don't need to see it because its itchy," she informed him. "Hurry up and switch. I'm about to wake up Dad."

"Fine, I'm hurrying." Reluctantly, he pulled himself onto his feet, sad to leave the soft embrace of his nested blankets. With one sharp thought, he shifted into ghost mode, core humming with a strong and vibrant thrum. He looked himself over, glad to see that his suit had rebuilt itself. Though as rebellious as any teenager was, he didn't particularly enjoy the sleeveless look.

Jazz looked back up from where she had shielded her eyes. She gave him one last appraising nod before she turned her back.

 _Now's my chance!_

Not wasting a second, he immediately began to fidget with the sling. It was oversized and bulky, fashioned from one of Jazz's old hoodies, so it took some clumsy wrangling to get at his secured arm.

"Thermos." Danny froze, hand hovering over the sling. That word was not just a threat, but a promise. His sister slowly swiveled her head towards him, eyes narrowed.

And he feigned innocence as fast as he could. Leaning casually against the counter, he said, "Thermos? What thermos? We don't need a thermos, unless its for coffee? Do you want coffee? I'm making coffee."

As he busied himself, he heard Jazz sigh, mutter something about being the only adult in this situation (rude), and continue towards their sleeping father.

 _Phew. Forgot how scary she can be._

Within moments, the snoring ceased, and another hyper-exhausted Fenton joined the kitchen.

Jack blinked tiredly at his surroundings before he settled on staring at Danny (Phantom). The man watched blankly as Danny measured the grounds. To which, Danny just kind of avoided eye contact. It was weird being Phantom, and he was still not entirely sold on the idea that his dad wouldn't recognize him.

When he reached to turn on the faucet, his dad stopped him with a light touch to his hand. "Can't use that water kid. We're saving it for the bathroom. Here, use this." With a foot, he kicked open a floor cabinet and gestured to stash of water rations. Military grade because Fentons didn't do anything halfway.

The action surprised Danny enough that he actually shivered. He never thought his dad would be so comfortable with Phantom that he'd casually grab his hand. It was weird and scary in its own way. If his dad didn't fear Phantom, then what was stopping him from pulling Phantom apart, molecule by painful molecule.

"Uh, thanks," Danny stuttered after discreetly putting some distance between himself and his dad. "I can take it from here." The subtext was clear.

 _Give me my space._

"Right," his dad grunted. With one last curious look, Jack shuffled off into the bathroom.

Jazz, who was sitting in the passenger seat, merely glanced back at the interaction.

"Did you see that?" Danny mouthed.

Jazz only offered a shoulder shrug as a response before leaning back and closing her eyes.

"And you're usually the fink around here," Danny muttered to himself. The plastic ration bags were proving difficult to open one handed. "And I'm not usually so useless. This sucks," he said to his slinged arm. "You suck and you're useless."

After a few more frustrating attempts to open the bags, he eventually remembered that he could just turn the bag intangible and let the water pour out that way. Perfect. Easy.

 **Splash.**

And just like that! He spilt it everywhere. Great. Not even a little water made it into the pot.

The commotion stirred his sister who, after immediately recognizing the issue at hand, jumped up and poured the water for him.

"Ohmigosh. Sorry Danny. I forgot. One hand. I'm so sorry. I should have thought of it earlier."

To which Danny could only respond, "this is humiliating. Can't even open up a bag."

"Danny!" Jazz reprimanded. "Don't say that!"

"Well it's true!"

"You are _healing_ ," Jazz huffed. "When you're done, I'll let you open all the bags and bottles you want."

"Gee, thanks."

Talking with Jazz helped instill a degree of normalcy. He could almost pretend he wasn't Phantom right now. Almost. It was still hard to ignore the weightless tugs at his core and the glowing.

"Anytime, bro. Would you like to do the honors?"

Eager for some caffeine, he quickly smashed the ON button and nearly applauded the gurgling sound of heated water. He pointedly looked her square in the eye. "If you ever use the word 'bro' again, I might have to remove it from Lancer's hip new lingo phrase book."

Jazz snorted. "He still has that."

"According to my new English teacher, he's had it for decades."

"I remember when he referenced it in the middle of my senior exam week," Jazz smirked. "He told everyone to 'stop killing the chill and jive with the flow.'"

"Yeah, that sounds about par for the course."

"Oh, but that wasn't the worst of it. He somehow convinced Teslaff to play along, too!

Danny nearly choked. "Teslaff?"

Jazz nodded once, looking like a wizened old gossip sage. "Teslaff," she confirmed.

"I don't believe it."

"Totally happened. Living witness right here."

Danny grinned, happy to fall into the usual sibling banter. He pointed at her accusingly. "Video evidence or it didn't happen."

"How would I have-" but Jazz was cut short.

"Video evidence or what didn't happen?"

The new voice startled Danny so bad that his core frizzled and jumped a foot into the air. He looked sheepishly at his dad before forcing both of his feet to the metal floor. "Uh, nothing?"

Jack crossed his arms, but the gesture was more thoughtful than scornful. "Sure didn't sound like nothing."

"Inside joke, Dad," Jazz explained cooly. Maybe a bit too cooly. "By the time we finished explaining it to you, it wouldn't be funny anymore."

Jack raised an eyebrow, but quickly conceded. He did look a little disappointed, though.

"So…" Danny drawled, desperate to escape the awkward atmosphere. "I'm going to go to the bathroom now. Is there enough water to take a shower?"

His dad looked at him quizzically, perhaps befuddled that a ghost would ask to use his shower. "Not really. You could probably get away with rinsing your hair, but a shower? The tank's less than a quarter full."

"Thank goodness," he mumbled. "I feel like a wreck." With that, he happily retreated to the privacy of the tiny bathroom. It was small and cramped, but he wouldn't be scrutinized here. This would be his last break before he had to put his game face on for who knows how long.

He could clearly hear the voices outside the door, but he was too preoccupied with his business to care. Of which he had a lot. His hair was grimy and matted. Phasing helped ease cleaning it, but then the real issue was the apparent lack of shampoo. He ended up using bar soap which left a strange waxy residue and made it stick up oddly. He managed to phase some of the wax out, but for the most part, he was just going to look half feral until he took a proper shower.

"Just my luck," he told his reflection. "You look like you've just been electrocuted." He fussed some more, trying to get at least _some_ of it to lay flat, but to no avail. "And you get to look like that for quite a while. Good going Fenton."

Groaning in defeat, he accepted his current fashion statement and left the bathroom. "You're up," he told Jazz. "I don't recommend using the bar soap as shampoo, by the way."

One look at his head, and Jazz quickly agreed. "Noted. Glad you went first."

He feigned emotional turmoil, throwing his hand over his chest dramatically. "You would sacrifice your own broth-" He cut himself short, just now remembering that he was Phantom and not Fenton.

Jazz just looked at him oddly. "Gonna finish that thought or can I just…"

"Go," Danny urged. "Don't wait up on me."

"Roger that." And she quickly disappeared behind the metal door.

 _This is gonna be hard._

Danny would be the first to admit that he was the absolute worst at separating Phantom and Fenton. He would also argue that he didn't really need to separate them since they were both just Danny. Now, that sentiment was coming back to bite him.

"How would a teenage ghost turned superhero act on a camping trip slash rescue mission while in the company of ghost-hating maniacs?" he wondered aloud as he poured his own cup of coffee. "Stay thy hand, hunter. I, Phantom, am here to save the day?" He considered it for a split moment as he stirred in his cream and sugar. "No. That's awful. I'd rather clean the Fenton Stockades than stoop to that level. I'll just act cool. Nothing weird about me. Just your average ghost… that also happens to have a human body… yeah okay. Maybe that is a little abnormal. But I can play it off. No big deal. Doesn't affect anything. I'm still just me."

He nodded to himself as he tore into a breakfast bar. "Yeah. I got this. All I have to do is not give myself away. Easy."

Why did it not feel easy?

Coffee in hand, mouth filled with granola, Danny stepped outside to look for his dad. They'd need to leave soon, so he thought he should try to round up the gang.

He looked left. He looked right. He even looked up before he remembered that Jack couldn't fly. Stupid ghost instincts. Jack was nowhere to be found.

"Hey, Jazz. Is that you?" Oh! There he is. Underneath the RV. Of course.

Ducking down, Danny met his dad's startled gaze with a, "sorry . Just me. Jazz is still getting ready."

Jack blew out a heavy, pensive breath. "Don't sneak up on me like that," he grumbled distractedly. He was busy pulling at some metal. Was that… a loose tread? "I have to fix this before we leave."

"Oh." Danny stood back up and turned in place. He could hear the water running inside, so Jazz was still not ready. And he couldn't see Valerie anywhere outside the ghost shield. Probably hidden in a tree somewhere… hopefully. When he decided he had nothing better to do, he crouched back down. "Can I help?"

His voice startled his dad again who promptly knocked his forehead against the underside of the RV. Holding his head with his hand, he groaned and grumbled, clearly frustrated. "I guess, yeah. I was going to ask for a flashlight…"

"Oh-" Danny smiled. This was something he, Danny _Phantom_ could help with. "I gotcha covered." Coffee stored safely in his lap, arm outstretched, he let a cold and bright energy pool in his palm. "I learned to do this while camping. Pretty handy."

Too preoccupied to really pay any mind, his dad continued wrestling with the bent metal. "You an outdoorsman?"

"Bleh! No. Too many bugs. I'll take the city any day of the week."

Jack grunted and cursed as his grip slipped. Then, he closed his eyes and rested his head in the mud. "Beginning to agree with you, kid. This would be a cinch in a garage."

Danny frowned in thought. "Can I look?"

"Knock yourself out." Worming his way back out from the RV, Jack finally noticed what his source of light was. He cursed again, this time ducking down as far as the earth would let him.

As a result, Danny flinched, and the light instantly winked out. He held up his good hand complacently. as Jack openly stared. Unwilling to make the first move, Danny tensely waited.

 _Good going! Use ghost powers around ghost hunters! A recipe for instant friendship._

Gradually, his dad unwinded, breath hitching in a nervous laugh. "For a moment, I thought…" He shook his head. "Were you seriously using that as a flashlight?"

"Uh… yeah?"

Jack snorted. "Well that's handy, but maybe you could warn a guy first." He finally finished wiggling his way back through the mud. "I could have shot you on the spot."

"Ha! Yeah, you and what aim," Danny quipped, falling once again into his defensive one liners. His dad was taking this pretty well, all things considered, but it was still unnerving. He should have expected it when Jack gave his back a good hearty clap, but he didn't. If it wasn't for his core's resilience, then he would have face planted into the side of the RV.

"Hey!" Jack cheered, "and here I was wondering if you lost your sense of humor."

Groaning with embarrassment, Danny crouched down and stuck his head underneath the RV. "Let's just get this over with, please?" The problem with the tread was obvious now that he was looking at it. A few segments were dented inwards, hooking around the feeder wheel…

"Is this it?" He indicated the bent metal.

"Yeah! Darn thing's jamming the ol' Fenton Retreader."

"Oh! I get it. So you just need to get the old tread off." His eyes traced back up to where his father was curiously hovering. "I can do that easy."

"You can?"

"Yeah, watch this." Leaving his mug in the dirt, he stood up and curled his fingers below the frame of the RV. The vehicle was easily lifted, listing to the side as one Jazz Fenton squealed and the running water was hastily turned off. Danny winced as he heard the tell-tale stomping just before the door swung open.

"What the heck are you doing!" she gasped, clinging to the front door frame to keep from falling over.

"Sorry!" Danny called over to her. "Just fixing the car-"

"A little warning next time!" Jazz shouted, clearly annoyed. Water was splashed all over her face and clothes. Her shirt got the worst of it, clinging to her skin in spots and hanging loosely in others for a good, proper disheveled look.

"Sorry…"

"Good thing you weren't on the commode!" Jack shouted.

"Ugghhh," she grumbled. "I _hate_ family outings." Staggering through the slanted door, she fell to the earth, grimacing when her feet sank into the mud. "Never shoulda left my dorm. I'm gonna go get the Red Huntress. Please refrain from tearing the RV apart while I'm away." That last bit was aimed directly at Danny, but he pretended not to hear it. Jazz was just in a bad mood. She knew he wouldn't actually tear the RV apart.

"Stay safe," Jack said, "we don't know what's out there."

Pointing at the Fenton Peeler on her belt, Jazz agreed. "Better safe than sorry."

"Thatta girl-"

 **Thungghkshh…**

With a touch of intangibility, the tread fell off and immediately sank into the mud. Jack whistled, clearly impressed before he had the wits to activate the Fenton Retreader. A few moments after the man clambered through the slanted doorway, hidden mechanisms whirred and shifted, snapping into place one brilliantly polished platinum tread.

"Did it work!" Jack yelled from inside.

"I think so!" Danny answered, curiously watching as his parents' engenius design folded neatly away. "Hold on, I'm going to put it down now."

"Roger that!"

Kicking aside the old tread, Danny gently replaced the RV in the mud. It sank a little, but held strong. "Looks good!"

Jack stuck his head out, awe written on his face. "Wow! Guess you don't stay down for long, huh?"

Taking some steps back, Danny reclaimed his coffee mug and appraised his work. "Can't afford to." He took a sip, meandering in his guilt. If he wasn't taken out in the first place, then none of this would've happened. He looked at his arm, still useless within its sling. "I don't know how to repay you for this…"

Jack's eyes locked onto his injury, too. "Just get my wife back, and we're even."

 _That's right. Focus on getting mom back._

"Deal." The ghost shield's static hum isolated his senses from the outside world. It was so thick, he could just barely see out of it. The shadowy trees hid almost everything from view. "How long do you think it will take Jazz?"

Growing uncharacteristically serious, Jack scanned the tree line. "Dunno. Maybe they're talking it out? You know how Jazz can get… lectury."

Somehow, this situation struck Danny as a lecture free zone. Jazz should know better than to waste time trying to instill some vain knowledge on Valerie… not when their mother could be in a whole heap load of trouble. "I don't think it should be taking her this long…"

His dad fidgeted irritably, clearly bitten by the same anxiety that Danny was feeling. "She knows what she's doing…" he hesitantly stated. "She knew what to do with you."

Danny shook his head. "That's different! Valerie is… different. This is taking too long." He paced the circumference of the shield. "I can go check on them. Let me out."

At this, Jack looked nearly affronted. "I- I can't do that! You'll escape!"

"You have to trust me at some point!" Danny tried to reason, but as it was, his anxiety and paranoia was mounting just as his dad's was. "Just let me out!"

Jack shook his head and started marching forward. "No. I'll go get Jazz. You keep the RV warm."

"With that limp!" Danny argued, "you're going to hurt yourself!"

"I'll be back," Jack deftly promised, already several feet beyond the shield. But Danny didn't want to have any of that. His mom was already missing. Jazz could be who knows where, and his dad was just gonna march off into the unknown.

He pressed himself against the shield. "Stupid, stubborn, Fenton pride," he growled. "If there's gonna be anything that kills me, it'll be that." Jack disappeared beyond his range of sight all too quickly, and Danny's anxiety spiked. "Gotta get out of here," he mumbled to himself as he assessed the situation. "Phantom can't get through this… but maybe Fenton can?"

There was a chance. The first shields ever made had trouble with his human side, but as his parent's progressed, their shields got better. If luck was on his side, then the RV would still be outfitted with an antiquated shield design.

He flew to the back of the RV, switched, and ran straight towards the shield. It gave under his force a little bit, but otherwise didn't budge. His arm began to throb again at the abuse, quickly forcing Danny to consider alternate options.

 _Okay. Next plan._

Thinking quick, he jumped inside the RV, checking the front panel. The shield switch was clearly labeled, and he tried throwing it into the off position. Nothing happened. Crud. Must be some other controls he needed to activate. He scanned the interior, lined with almost as many knobs, switches, and levers as a space shuttle. Trying to maneuver through all the possible combinations would take too long. Plus, there's no telling which of these would actually hurt him! And really, that would be counterproductive to the whole rescue mission he was currently on.

He morphed back into Phantom as an idea began to develop. He couldn't get out of the shield, but that didn't mean that he couldn't move the shield. He hopped in the front seat and reached for the ignition… no keys. Dangit! He just couldn't catch a break.

"Okay, can't drive the RV." He started plotting aloud, worry increasing with each passing second. "Doesn't mean I can't still move the RV!"

He phased through the wall, eager to get going as soon as possible. He initially tried to fully lift the RV, but after it lurched and leaned unsteadily, he decided that picking the thing up and carrying it around would require the use of both of his arms. "Push it is then," he decided.

He jumped into the RV, popped it into neutral, and then jumped back out. It started to roll some down hill, and the shield moved with it, just as predicted. This will work!

Grunting, Danny began to push the RV with his good arm towards where the last of his family members disappeared to. He pushed it a few feet rather easily, but the farther it went, the more the front dug into the mud. Which meant… ugh! He'd have to pull it… and with his bad arm too.

He circled around and lifted the front back out of the earth. Pulling the thing would require a bit more muscle, and he only had one hand to steer with. Luckily, or unluckily, he soon discovered the next issue with the 'pull the GAV' plan.

Trees! The trees were freaking everywhere! Blocking any route he could hope to take into the woods.

 _How the heck am I supposed to get through this!_

They towered over him, thick with decades of overgrowth. Sure, he could knock them down one by one, move the RV a little bit, knock down some more… but that seemed risky. The shield didn't give him a lot of room to maneuver, and the chance of a tree falling on the RV was pretty high… Not to mention that Sam might literally kill him if she found out that he indiscriminately kicked over trees. This could be, like, some sort of nature reserve or something.

And then, he could suddenly hear a voice! His father's voice! Finally! Jack was so loud that his shouts were carrying through the leaf litter. He sounded urgent, in trouble maybe?

 _Crudcrudcrudcrudcrud…_

He was trapped, and his dad was in danger. He paced the shield, trying to discern the direction of the shout.

And then finally, another sound. Footsteps. Running footsteps.

"Danny!" His sister burst from the undergrowth, brambles clinging to her jeans like frayed nerves.

"Jazz! What's wrong?"

She didn't pause to address the question, instead bolting right past her brother and into the RV. She stood over the switches, flipping the ghost shield on and off. Of course, the shield itself remained activated despite her attempts. "Locked!? Dad didn't say he locked it!"

"Jazz! Where's Da- where's Jack?"

His sister took a shaky breath, stepping away from the controls. "Slipped down a ledge. Can't get him out…" She lightly kicked the controls. "And APPARENTLY, _I_ can't get you out either!"

It was rare that Jazz lost her composure, but she was losing it and losing it fast. He found himself wondering if she got any sleep at all.

 _Okay. Remain calm and evaluate your options._

Valerie! Valerie should be out there. Why doesn't she just hoist him out? "Val can get him out," Danny reasoned. "She's strong enough."

Throwing her hands in the air, Jazz growled, "she's gone! I looked everywhere. Dad looked everywhere. She's…" Jazz took a deep breath. "... she just left us." Her hand started fidgeting with her lose hair, pulling it over her bruised eye. It was matted from the wind and mist, clinging to her fingers as she tried to pull herself together.

 _Shoulda seen that coming. Valerie isn't one for joyous cooperation._

"Dad didn't tell me that the controls were locked." His sister's fiery eyes glared hard at the tiny levers dotting the front panel. "Do you know how to unlock them?"

"If I did, do you think I'd still be here?"

"Fair enough. Any ideas?"

"Fresh out."

"Good, because I got one and a lot of frustration to take out." Standing in the middle of the RV, she opened the fire escape hatch on the ceiling. Alarms started instantly blaring, but she paid them no mind as she pulled herself out and onto the roof.

Following suit, Danny phased himself out and hovered, watching in shock as his goody two shoes sister hammered away at the base of the shield emitter with the heel of her sandal. "Wait," Danny meandered, "stop! You're gonna break it!"

"That's the idea!" **STOMP!** This time, she kicked it so hard that her shoe went flying off into the distance. The stubborn platinum just wasn't giving in to her violent onslaught.

 _Oh. Duh, that makes sense._

"And people call me the problem child." Waving his sister away, he gripped the metal in his gloved hand. The cool shield energy nipped at his skin with needle pricks. Fortunately, the metal itself easily gave way between his fingers as Phantom tore the device right off its mount. "We are going to get in so much trouble for this," he muttered as the shield above warped and slowly faded like a melting sheet of green popsicle.

"Well, it's not like we had much of a choice!" Jazz defended.

"True. I just don't think I've ever been so directly destructive with our parent's equipment before. It feels wrong." The shield above him was still collapsing and melting. Apparently, whatever Jack had juiced this shield up with was some grade A stuff. It was taking a while to dissipate.

"And people call you the problem child," Jazz parroted with a maniacal, sleep-deprived smirk. "Okay, Dad is somewhere in that direction." She indicated towards the tree line. "Down in a ravine with a creek. Think you can find that?"

"Ravine with a creek," Danny answered, "easy. I got a bird's eye view, remember?" He pushed himself towards the ceiling, eagerly waiting for an opening large enough to squeeze through.

"Thank goodness," Jazz deflated. "I feel like I've just ran a marathon."

"Take a breather. I'll be back in a sec."

As he finally left the shield (free at last!), he rocketed skyward, above the treeline and towards the direction that Jazz had indicated. Sure enough, a creek bubbled along, carving out a snake like trail through the elevation. It was pretty, but not pretty enough to warrant gawking at in this situation.

So, upon spotting it, Danny dove and followed along the waterway, speeding along at a healthy cruise of about 60mph. Needless to say, at that pace, spotting Jack took no time at all. He was an oversized blot of bright orange in a sea of dark mud. To say that the man stuck out would be a severe understatement.

* * *

 **A/N** : Wow! This is very mucho late. This chapter just absolutely REFUSED to be written. The stars and the moon and the sun and the planets and all the other space junk circling our meek planet aligned and dispelled unto me the WORST of writer's blocks. I'm serious. I have like over 10 of this chapter written (and deleted; and rewritten; and deleted). It just WOULD NOT happen. And then work and family and work again and family again. I almost gave up and released a total DUD instead of an actual chapter, and that would have simply not been cool.

Ahhh, it's been so long since I've updated. Thank you to all the new folks who've favorited and followed, and a big thank you Invader Johnny, FiveRivers, Fear the Fuzzy Bear, kimcat, MsFrizzle, Jatynzel, and the two mysterious guests for the reviews!


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